Inner Dawn
by x Ugly Duckling x
Summary: Breaking Dawn with a lot less blood, violence, and angst. Bella & Edward's marriage strengthens from the moment they discover she's pregnant, leading both to discover deeper maturity and selfless love. A story for the sophisticated Twilight fan. SEQUEL UP
1. Chapter 1: Paradise

**IMPORTANT NOTE: The sequel to this story, Infinite Dawn, is currently up and in progress! You can find the link to it on my profile.**

**Here's a Twilight FanFic for the sophisticated reader, featuring an intelligent blend of canon & creative elements. Please savor every line - I designed it to be one of the best experiences you'll ever have with Fan Fiction.  
>And of course, I own none of the characters.<strong>

**CHAPTER 1 - Paradise**

**Bella **

August had been emotionally exhausting month. Though honestly, the entire summer had been. And if you count the crazy events from last spring, you're looking at six straight months of stress. It's hard to believe a human being can withstand that much and still be sane.

Well, some might consider sanity a relative thing, I thought as I glanced over at my husband's prostrate form. The delicious irony of the situation hit me. Here I was, congratulating myself on having survived extreme physical & psychological distress with my sanity intact, when lying next to me in our honeymoon suite was a creature that wasn't technically human. A smirk played on my mouth. Few would consider this a victory for sanity. But I could live with that.

Especially at this moment, in this exquisite place, with the early morning sun bathing the sheer curtains in lemon light. There were no screens here, nothing to inhibit the island's breeze or silence the pulse lapping at its shore. Everything breathed and sighed in perfect rhythm. It was like being inside a giant cocoon, swaddled in ultimate bliss, tasting paradise with all of my five senses. If I wasn't careful, delirium would set in and no force on earth could bring me back to reality.

There were no screens here – none in the cottage, none in our hearts, and none in the bedroom.

Eyes half-lidded, Edward lazily removed one of his arms from behind his head and let it flop down on the sheet. That simple, lethargic motion put me over the top – my smirk spread into a grin and I had no chance of containing my laughter.

This, of course, snapped his attention over to me in an instant. "What? What's so funny all of a sudden?" he asked, sounding as demanding as he was perplexed.

His dumfounded expression only made things more amusing. I couldn't help but giggle again. "I'm not sure you want to know," I hedged, eyes twinkling mischievously while his amber ones grew more impatient.

"Oh, I think I do, especially after you said that," his eyebrows rose imperiously.

I bit my lip, still smiling. "It's just… I've always heard about guys get worn out after doing… _that_, but I wasn't expecting _you_ to," I was starting to blush by this point. "It's kind of funny that you do."

For an instant, mock indignation crossed his face. Worried I had hurt his feelings or, even worse, his ego, I quickly added, "And cute, too… I think it's cute," I leaned in to place a reassuring hand on his rock-hard bare shoulder. "It's nice when you're a little vulnerable. It's not something I get to see very often. Ever, actually," I added with a cynical laugh.

I scanned his eyes desperately, hoping my comments had succeeded in keeping his indignation to a minimum. What I saw confused me – he seemed almost amused. The longer I stared, breathlessly anxious, the more I found myself being pulled into those twin hypnotic pools, a sensation I'd grown all too familiar with over the past week.

It was useless to resist, and before I knew it I'd been forcefully yet gently rolled onto my back. One pair of granite limbs pinned my hips in place while another pair locked around my shoulders. A chill raced across my skin as his mouth tickled my neck and collarbone, cool waves from his chest diffusing through my thin satin gown. My eyes closed in speechless anticipation.

"Now then," he murmured in my ear, "who were you saying was _'worn out?'_"

"Nobody," I barely whispered, planting my hands once more on his impossibly smooth skin. In the distant reaches of my mind, I was glad I hadn't offended him, at least not overtly. He seemed to have recovered just fine. More than fine, really.

That was confirmed ten minutes later when he dismounted and rolled back under the covers, leaving me gasping for air and blind with euphoria. Seizing the opportunity to have the last word, he turned to me and said, "For the record, I was letting _you_ rest earlier," his playful lopsided smile took over. "Just so we're both perfectly clear on the matter."

If it was any clearer, I thought to myself, it would be the very air I was breathing.


	2. Chapter 2: Reflections

**CHAPTER 2 - Reflections**

**Bella**

That had been our final day on Isle Esme. A week in paradise was probably the most my senses could handle, though acknowledging that didn't make the plane any easier to board. My reluctance meant Edward had to carry all the luggage. Not that he wouldn't have anyway, but part of me felt guilty for dragging my feet. He was eager to return home to see his family again, and he didn't deserve such a pouty wife. Though to be fair, he did have nearly a century of emotional maturity on me.

Getting my "monthly gift" on the morning of our departure certainly didn't help my mood, but thankfully Alice had been thoughtful enough to pack me some tampons. I sat down in the tiny, claustrophobic cabin, buckled my seatbelt, and slumped down into the seat with my arms crossed. There was no way around it – PMS did not mix well with the bittersweet angst of leaving heaven on earth.

_Oh, quit your whining Bella_, I snapped at myself as we picked up speed_. You have nothing to complain about. You have everything you've ever wanted – and then some_. It helped at times like this to imagine all the worse alternate scenarios that my life could have encountered. I might have never met Edward. He could have succeeded in committing suicide last year. Victoria and her minions might have overtaken the wolves and the Cullens, and I'd be done for by now. When you think about it, there really are a million worse circumstances you could be in at any given time. True gratitude lies in recognizing that and thanking God every day.

All these alternate scenarios had one thing in common: none would have led to this day, on this plane with this man sitting next to me, married and having just spent the most amazing week together.

Edward must have sensed the shift in my emotions; he pressed closer to me and buried his nose in my hair. "Ready to go home, love?" he purred.

I sighed before answering. "Yeah, I think so. I wasn't this morning, but now things are… starting to gain perspective."

"Mm, how so?"

"I was just thinking about all the things that could have gone wrong. You know, things that could have prevented this moment from happening." I blinked, casting a wistful glance out the window. The island was steadily shrinking on the horizon now. Soon it would be a mere speck, then disappear altogether.

My thoughts seemed to catch him by surprise. He paused for a minute before responding. "There are a lot of those, aren't there," he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "I hope they're not making you feel worse."

"Oh no," I reassured him quickly. "Just the opposite. Everything makes sense now. Everything happened exactly as it was supposed to."

"I'm glad you feel that way," he gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze.

"Me too. Earlier this summer, I definitely didn't," I admitted, a slightly bitter edge creeping into my voice.

"You mean when Charlie announced his engagement to that woman he's only known for five minutes?" Edward poked me in the ribs playfully with his other hand.

I laughed drily and folded my arms again. "Yeah, for starters. Then when Harry passed away three days before our wedding, and we had to postpone it a week so we could attend the funeral."

Edward nodded. "You were a good daughter to do that. Your father appreciated it more than you know."

His words took a few seconds to sink in, at which point I turned to give him a knowing smirk. "You would know that, wouldn't you? Ha. Well, it sucked at the time, but it all worked out in the end. I really can't complain."

"Hmm, I'll second that," came his lascivious purr in my ear. "What have I always told you? Good things are worth waiting for."

I had to smile at that. He was absolutely right. My mind recalled all the strained conversations we'd had about… waiting. I'd pleaded, begged, negotiated, and appealed to every known trick in the book to get him to concede. So in addition to feeling frustrated, I felt baffled. Every other man on the planet, it seemed, barely needed two words to get going. _They_ were usually the ones begging and pleading. What was wrong with this picture?

Then, one night a couple months ago, when my pleading was reaching a fever pitch, he'd finally explained himself:

"Bella, let me ask you something. If it weren't for your parents' divorce, would you still feel the way you do about marriage? I know it's a tough, personal question, but please try to be honest."

The question had taken me completely off-guard. Blinking rapidly, I did my best to think it through before answering. Where did my aversion to marriage come from? If not from my parents' failed relationship, then where? Sure, fifty percent of all marriages failed, but a statistic doesn't have the power to taint one's view so completely. That level of jading can only come from direct, personal exposure – which in my case went by the names of Charlie and Renee.

Amazing, how such a simple question could reveal more than I'd ever realized on my own. I swallowed thickly. "Um, I guess not. I probably wouldn't feel the same way," I admitted quietly.

I half expected to receive some sort of self-righteous, triumphant response from Edward, but instead he adopted an even humbler pose, lowering his shoulders a fraction. "Thank you for being honest. Now, if you did feel differently, as a lot of people do, might you see marriage as something sacred? Something more than just 'a piece of paper?'"

I'd heard that term used many times before. A lot of my classmates boiled it down to "just a piece of paper." And what did they all have in common? A family unit that in some form or another had broken down. None had a functional, healthy model of marriage to revere or emulate. It made sense that their – our – view of marriage would be cynical, pessimistic, and unimpressed. It just made sense.

Again, I had to agree with his point. I simply nodded this time.

"And if you thought of it as more than a piece of paper, you'd probably consider marriage vows to be something special and sacred. They'd be singular, unequivocal. They'd signify the beginning of an unprecedented bond. Right?" he asked gently.

I had the distinct feeling that, by this point, wherever he was headed was going to make a flawless argument. Resistance, as they say, was futile. I nodded once more.

"If those vows begin a new, unprecedented relationship, shouldn't there be something else new and unprecedented to go along with them? Take, for instance," he reached across to hold my left hand in his, "your engagement ring. When I verbally asked you to marry me, I gave you this ring as a symbol to back it up, so to speak. My words and actions went together. I didn't do one without the other."

The light that had sparked in his mind a minute ago began to flick on in mine now.

"Sweetheart, it's the same thing with sex. It's the ultimate physical expression. So it deserves to be paired exclusively with the ultimate verbal expression." His hand drifted across my cheek, cold fingers cradling the tip of my chin lovingly as he gazed into my uncertain eyes. "I hope that makes sense. I hope you realize that everything I've done, and haven't done, has been because I love you too much to do otherwise."

His words had been so beautifully spoken that night, and recalling them warmed my heart. And now, I hadn't the least reason to regret our decision. It wasn't even a possibility. I closed my eyes, leaned head back into the leather headrest, and dreamed of home – where the rest of my life, and beyond, awaited.


	3. Chapter 3: Return

**CHAPTER 3 - Return**

**Edward**

Esme and Carlisle were the only ones home when we pulled in late that evening. Everyone else was out hunting, which was fine by me. The less commotion and fewer prying questions we encountered, the better. I loved my siblings, but in all honesty, Alice was rather intense, Rosalie was typically brooding, and Emmett had a tendency of making awkward observations. I fully expected all three to be in top form, especially after our honeymoon. With Bella exhausted from the long flight back, the last thing I wanted was for her to be subjected to that.

"Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen," Esme greeted with a welcoming smile as we entered the front foyer.

"I trust you found Isle Esme to your liking?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes, it was… very refreshing. Thank you again for letting us stay there," I replied politely.

"And there was enough food for Bella, I take it?" Esme was obliged to ask.

Bella nodded as eagerly as she could, considering her exhaustion. "There was plenty, thank-" she yawned mid-sentence, "-you, Esme." She smiled self-consciously, prompting the other two to chuckle.

"It looks like someone needs a bed ASAP," Carlisle winked, adjusting his posture to invite us up the steps toward my bedroom.

We'd nearly reached the top landing when Esme called out, "Um, we made a few adjustments to your room, Edward. I hope you won't mind. We thought you and Bella might appreciate them. For a little more privacy."

Intrigued, I raised a curious eyebrow at Bella, who was barely alert enough to notice. For all she cared, Esme could have just told us there was a nest of giant spiders under the bed – it wouldn't have changed anything.

As we approached the door at the end of the hall, I noticed something was already different. The usual nightly glow that filled the room wasn't there. With a three-quarter moon out that night, there should have been enough light to read a magazine, yet for the first time ever, I had to fumble for the light switch.

Bright, artificial light flooded the room harshly, and Bella squinted her eyes. While she sought to adjust her eyesight, I surveyed the changes before me. The most obvious were the thick brocade curtains covering the windows. Their pale yellow hue was so faint as to almost appear white, and their swirling gold pattern made it feel like a royal chamber.

Angled against the far corner was a king-size bed, four posters and all, with a pale blue bedspread and tall headboard. My futon was nowhere to be seen, I noticed with a self-deprecating smile. Of course, no human – especially a female human – should be expected to sleep on a futon every night. Esme had known exactly what she was doing.

My stray magazines had been neatly organized in a rack a few feet from the bed. Two majestic cherry dressers stood along the adjacent wall, one with a mirror mounted on top. Nothing was out of place, not even one book or CD. The makeover likely took less than an hour to complete, given vampire speed, but I still appreciated the effort and consideration. It was nice to be able to offer a proper room to my new bride.

Speaking of which, she'd collapsed on the bed at some point during my reverie and was now softly snoring. I smiled, turned to extinguish the light, and proceeded back downstairs to visit my parents once more. They were watching Letterman with the sound turned down to its lowest setting, doing their best to keep their laughter quiet. Esme's eyes widened upon seeing me.

"Is she asleep already?" she asked incredulously. I nodded apologetically, hands in my pockets.

"Poor thing. She probably won't be up before noon tomorrow," she mused. "Guess that gives me a free morning. I won't have to make breakfast. Hm, that reminds me, I should put together a shopping list, and Alice asked for some input on repainting her room…" Esme mumbled to herself as she exited the room, heading off to all corners of the house to do who knows what.

"Typical Mom," I shrugged, taking her seat at the end of the couch. "Always busy, even in the middle of the night."

Carlisle shook his head slowly. "That's her. Sometimes I worry if she'll ever run out of things to do, and what will happen to all of us if she does," he joked, though I sensed a bit of genuine concern as well.

"Hey, if she's managed to stay occupied this long, she's resourceful enough to keep going," I added light-heartedly.

"True. So what did you and Bella do to 'stay occupied' last week?"

"Oh, everything you'd expect… snorkeling, hiking, swimming. Bonfires on the beach at night. Bird watching. Building sand castles and burying each other. You've got the perfect little resort down there, you know that?"

Carlisle smiled in response, but his eyes seemed distant. Then, apparently having formed his thoughts, he reached for the remote and the TV went black. "Edward, I have to ask you something. I don't want it to be awkward, but I feel as a doctor I have to know. I care for Bella too much not to know. Did you… consummate your marriage?"

I wasn't sure if I'd heard him correctly for two reasons. First and foremost, because he was my father, and he was inquiring about the details of my sex life. That was odd enough. And secondly, because it seemed a fairly obvious, redundant point to clarify. Who gets married and doesn't consummate it? I vacillated between discomfort and amusement, and the two mixing together led to a strange-sounding grunt.

"Ehm, I'm not really sure why you're asking me this, but if you want a straight answer, yes. Why wouldn't we?" my brow furrowed.

Carlisle appeared oblivious, or at least apathetic, to my flustered state. Having received the answer he'd apparently been fearing, he seemed to be very carefully choosing his next words. "I ask because Bella's safety is, and always will be, my main priority. As I'm sure it is yours as well. And I'm concerned that… certain actions might be more dangerous for her to engage in than others." He paused to draw a breath and meet my eyes. "Son, tell me, did she suffer any physical wounds?"

My own breath drew in sharply, not only from understanding his train of thought, but from the answer I had to give. I was not prepared for this. "I… well, I did my best, but she… had a few bruises here and there," I averted my eyes in shame.

Carlisle's frame tensed across from me, but he kept his alarm under control. "Are you sure that's all? No broken bones, no lacerations, no internal bleeding or anything else serious?"

I shook my head, still staring at the floor. "No, nothing like that. They've mostly faded by now anyway. I… got better as the week progressed," I added, vainly hoping to redeem myself.

Agonizing minutes passed as I awaited my judgment. Carlisle, never one to react without first thoughtfully considering everything, was taking his dear sweet time mulling the facts over. For once I wished he was a hot-headed, impulsive man whose judgment was swift and horrible, not meticulous and ambiguous.

At last he spoke. "Well Edward, obviously I can't tell you how to live your life. I respect your decision, and if you say you're gaining more control and restraint as time goes on, that's very encouraging. All I ask is that if anything remotely odd happens, even if you or Bella think it's insignificant, please don't hesitate to see me. I couldn't live with myself otherwise."

Could it really be that simple? I couldn't believe it. I'd been bracing for an entire lecture about responsibility, selfishness, and everything in-between. For him to actually condone our choice and give us his blessing was more than I could have hoped for. If all I had to do was agree to an open-door policy with my physician father, life was incredibly good.

"Of course I can do that," I replied eagerly, raising my gaze and reaching my hand forward to shake his. "I'd never do anything to hurt Bella. And definitely not for selfish reasons. She's… actually the one who pressured me into doing it, if you can believe that," I figured it was a good way to break the tension.

Carlisle's eyes betrayed his surprise. "Oh. Well, it seems I have even less to worry about, then." he pursed his lips slightly, clearly not expecting that information and unsure whether he even wanted it. But as they say, one cannot unsee what has been seen – or in this case, unhear what has been heard.

With a playfully reassuring pat on his shoulder, I nodded and rose. "You've got that right. But we appreciate your concern, we really do. Now, I'd like to go and get accustomed to our new room, if you don't mind."

"By all means," Carlisle gestured toward the stairs. "I hope it meets with your approval."

"From what I've seen so far, it does," I said over my shoulder just before racing up the steps in a blur. Even though Bella was fast asleep, and would be the next several hours, there was nowhere else I'd rather spend those hours than in that cozy apartment. I wanted – needed – to sit and soak it all in, fathoming eternity with the woman buried in those thick covers. Though the honeymoon had exceeded every expectation, it hadn't afforded much time for self reflection or quiet contemplation. Tonight was strangely captivating, so rare and indescribably precious, poised as I was on the brink of endless permanence with the one I loved.

As I stepped back into the darkened interior of our own private space, a thousand instincts collided within my heart, each promising a million joys and wonders yet untold. They continued to mesmerize me well beyond dawn's orange embrace hours later, with Bella's subtle breathing the perfect cadence through it all.


	4. Chapter 4: Plans

**CHAPTER 4 - Plans**

**Bella**

Life at the Cullens took some adjustment, but it wasn't all that difficult. We had a few days to ourselves before the "rest" returned from hunting. Fielding their endless questions and comments was only half as exhausting as I'd expected. After a few hours of exchanging stories and photos, Edward and I were left to do as we pleased. Not surprisingly, this landed us back upstairs.

Behind the thick inner curtains were gauzier ones, and we opted to let the thin gray light seep through them early one afternoon. Night or day, this room felt truly magical. I could sit silently forever within its soft folds, Edward's electrifying yet impassive presence next to me, and drift away into nothing. It was like a piece of Isle Esme had come home with us to stay.

In the midst of this ethereal nest, though, a tremor of unease rippled through the back of my mind. It had only plagued me once or twice during the honeymoon and was easily brushed aside. Yet now it resurged and wasn't about to be dismissed so quickly. As much as I hated to ruin our time in that room, I just couldn't bury this any longer. Its time had come.

Edward and I were lounging on the bed that day, flipping through the huge assortment of scrapbooks, family photo albums, and old yearbooks he'd collected over the years. Over the decades, to be more precise. It was an impressive display. While the average person can browse their family history through sepia-toned snapshots, not many get to see a loved one pass through the generations unchanged. Seeing Edward's constant face on top of so many period outfits was rather comical.

There he was in knickers, holding a slim wooden baseball bat back in 1930. Then he was in a pleated gingham suit around 1945, pipe in hand. ("It was fun to adopt a few kitsch customs once in a while," he'd defended. "Besides, it's not like it could give me cancer.") With the 60's came a gruesome plaid leisure suit – that had to be my absolute favorite. He grimaced at that one more than all the others combined.

"All right, I think we're done for today," he announced suddenly, grabbing the album off my lap.

"Oh no you don't! It was just getting good!" I made a futile effort to wrangle the spiral volume away from him.

Raising it high above his head with one hand, he laughed, "'Good' is in the eye of the beholder. I'd hardly call the disco era 'good.' And as the only one with the authority to say that from experience, I say we stop before we reach that point."

Though my curiosity was more intense than ever, I sighed and slouched my shoulders. I had to pick my battles. Soon enough, there'd be an opportunity to sneak another peek while he hunted. Schemes like this made me glad he couldn't read my mind.

Unfortunately, my gleeful mindset was short-lived. In its wake came those misgivings I'd managed to suppress before.

He sensed my change in mood almost as quickly as it had come. "Bella, is everything all right?" concern crept into his eyes. "If it's really that important to you, I guess we can keep looking... I didn't realize it would upset you that much."

A bitter smile appeared on my face and I shook my head tersely. "No, that's fine. I'd be a pretty sad case if I cried over something like that," I huffed mirthlessly. "It's just that looking at all those pictures reminded me of… something else."

His eyes narrowed marginally. "And what is that?"

"You can probably guess. You should know."

It was his turn to sigh. I stared pointedly at him, unmoving and firm in my resolve. Even that silver-spooned mouth of his wouldn't dazzle its way out of this one. There was no room for any more excuses or delays. "I've fulfilled my part of the bargain. Now it's your turn," I said, bold resolution in every word.

He stared at me for the longest time, or rather, stared through me. If not for the obvious wheels turning in his mind, my impatience would have gotten the best of me and demanded a response. But I could see he was considering this more deeply, more thoroughly than any other instance. For once, it felt like he might actually grant me a fair trial.

"You're right."

His words were so concise, so clear and direct, that it sounded like someone else had spoken. I forced my brain to verify what it just heard, capturing the sound on a mental reel and replaying it slowly.

"Bella, did you hear me?"

His cold palm on my cheek disrupted the replay. "Um… I think so," I stammered.

"Aren't you going to say something? Do something? Jump up and down, shout out the window, run downstairs and hug everyone?" he seemed genuinely amused.

"Maybe I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall," I said, half to myself. "There's always a catch. You excel at catches."

That made him chuckle. "I won't argue with that. But it would seem I've finally run out of catches. Like it or not, I'm at the end of the line. I promised you something and I'm a man of my word."

I was truly, positively speechless. I simply stared into his eyes, which I'd never seen quite like this before. There was a hint of sadness, but the primary emotion seemed to be hopeful courage. He really was making a conscious effort to get behind this decision, rather than merely tolerating it at a distance. After all this time, something truly miraculous was happening.

"I see you're a little tongue-tied," he casually observed. "Allow me to speak for you. Now, if I were you, I'd most likely want this to be something special, something memorable. Not that it won't be in its own right, of course. But since this is a once-in-a-lifetime event, wouldn't you say it deserves to be a little… ceremonious?"

All I could do was give him a quizzical look. I couldn't presume to know where he was going with this, and I wasn't about to agree to anything that could potentially be an ideological trap.

"Since I'm speaking for you, I'll say yes. It seems reasonable. Next question is, what would be ceremonious? For your sake, it should probably be something private, nothing over the top or otherwise attention-getting. That much we can agree upon, right?"

Whether for better or worse, he was actually spot-on with that. I nodded ever so slightly.

"Fantastic. I knew we'd be on the same page. I already have something in mind."

If I was speechless before, I was utterly mute now. My eyes widened in sheer wonder.

"Your birthday. It's just around the corner. Now, I know you don't want to be a day older than necessary, but consider this: 11:59 pm the night before. Not a minute too soon, quite literally." He looked as amused as he was self-satisfied. "That way, we both get what we want. Your 'official' age will still be what it is now. And I'll have the consolation of knowing I prolonged your human existence as long as reasonably possible. That, my dear, is what they call a win-win situation. A perfect compromise."

While my first instinct was to cry foul and label this as yet another catch, something stopped me. He'd actually formulated his own plan, taken initiative to accommodate both of our interests – and succeeded. How could I possibly resent having my needs taken into account so effectively? For the first time ever, he'd faced this topic with mature consideration instead of blind, irrational fear.

"And if I may, I'd like to suggest ways in which to occupy yourself until then."

He continued to be full of surprises. I indicated my interest by raising one eyebrow.

"You're free to take it or leave it. You aren't bound to it as some final prerequisite – I'll change you either way. But as your husband, I'm lovingly suggesting that you make a list of things you've always wanted to do. Or things you'd like more closure on. Visit Renee and Phil again. Go with Charlie to a baseball game. See a movie with your old classmates. It doesn't have to be spectacular, like visiting Mount Rushmore. Just choose things that are meaningful to you."

Shifting closer, he pulled me into a tender embrace and spoke into my hair. "I'm not saying you have to. I just think you'll be glad you did."

I pondered his words for a moment. "You won't be lonely or disappointed if I do things without you?"

His laughter was music to my ears. "Oh Bella, how I love your sense of humor. You do realize time won't be at a premium after next month. I can survive a couple weeks alone, especially for such a worthy cause." He leaned in to plant a slow, steady kiss on my lips, withdrawing after a good long minute. "And If you're worried about how to thank me, don't be. We'll have all the time in the world to even the score."

"Hmm. I'm pretty sure it's going to take me a while. The sooner I get started, the better, don't you think?" With that, I let my gratitude take over, and the next half hour was as glorious as Isle Esme's entire week. Except this time, there were no bruises.

Later that evening, while Edward engaged his siblings in a competitive game of pool, I sat by the fading light slipping behind the pines. I loved to peel both layers of curtains open then. It was my favorite time of day, twilight. Capturing its essence at just the right moment, when both day and night shared the atmosphere equally, was something I cherished daily. It seemed only fitting that my "last-minute list" should be composed then.

All of Edward's suggestions had made the cut. Tomorrow, I was flying down to Florida for three days. Charlie and I were seeing a minor league game the weekend I returned. Angela and Jessica were still around before heading off to college, and I was grateful they squeezed me in for one last chick flick the following week. ("We like, never got to see one Bella. Last time we went, you made us watch that awful, like, slasher film." Jessica, always the refreshing voice of honesty.)

Still, scanning my planner for the next several days, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. What was I omitting from the list? I had all family members accounted for, and all the friends that are still around Forks. Who or what was I forgetting?

Outside, the warm summer breeze carried a wolf's howl through the open window. That's when I nearly smacked my own head in exasperation.

Jacob.

Wow, I thought to myself, I guess what they say about marriage is true… it's easy to envelop yourself in it and forget the rest of the world. Even old best friends. As much as it pained me to think Jake almost didn't get included, kicking myself wouldn't get me very far. Scribbling his name a week from this Thursday was the only thing to do.


	5. Chapter 5: Strange

**CHAPTER 5 - Strange**

**Bella**

That Thursday came frighteningly fast. Florida had been… sunny, and pretty much everything else you'd expect in late summer. Mom and Phil seemed as happy as ever. She'd tried to wheedle details from me about Edward and my marriage, specifically those concerning plans for grandchildren. I didn't have the nerve to break her heart. All her hopes rested in me, her only child. What was the harm in letting her hold onto them a little while longer?

The baseball game flew by as quickly as the pitches thrown. Dad seemed content throughout it. I'm sure if Edward was there to read his mind, he'd tell me I'd made his day – his week, maybe even his month. Sipping coke beneath the brim of my worn baseball cap, I smiled. Edward's suggestions were exactly what I'd needed. It felt great just to extend simple gestures of affection to others beside Edward every now and then.

Angela, Jessica, and I exchanged mildly tearful hugs after our much-anticipated ladies' night out. Both would be gone in two days. Jessica's parents were hauling her & her overstuffed luggage several hundred miles to USC. Angela's exceptional grades had landed her a seat in Harvard's incoming freshman class. As we picked over the last of our diner food that night, each of us had to be as excited as the rest. Yet little did the other two know how vastly different their futures would be from mine. It felt unreal, withholding such massive truths from people. Normal people, who would always be normal.

And then came Thursday. I didn't realize – or didn't want to realize – just how much I'd been dreading this until the sun seeped through my eyelids that morning. I groaned almost inaudibly. Yet naturally, Edward had heard it.

"Good morning to you too," he teased, glancing sideways from the book he was reading in bed. I groaned again in response.

"Come on now, it can't be that bad. It's a brand new day, and if I recall correctly, one that brings a special visit to a special someone." Mock enthusiasm distorted the last few words.

"Uhh, I know. I want to go, but I don't."

"Fine, then don't."

I shot him an unappreciative look, which was met with a devastating smile.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I pouted. "I see what you're doing. Reverse psychology."

"Is it working?" he asked hopefully.

As much as I hated to admit it, it was. "Yes," I grumbled. "Although it isn't fair. You'd actually be pleased if I didn't go, so you have the upper hand. Sort of."

He shook his head and playfully tousled my already tangled hair. "Ah Bella, I can see why Jacob contended for you so badly. You're as charming as you are a stunning debater."

"Gee, thanks." Having been subjected to enough of his dry humor, I decided to roll out of bed and face the inevitable. That meant showering, dressing, eating, and driving down to the reservation in the overly conspicuous car Edward had given me as a wedding gift. I could already imagine how ridiculous I'd feel steering that opulent, brand-new Volvo with tinted windows up to the Black household. Jake would probably never let me live it down.

Then again, that should be the least of my worries. Ridiculing my car will seem inconsequential when he's screaming at me over what will happen next Monday at 11:59 pm.

He'd been upset enough at the wedding, and I highly doubted his mood had improved by now. His resentment and anger were justified. But as much as I dreaded his reaction, the prospect of not seeing him again before the transformation seemed far worse. Besides, how could I hope to handle the difficulties of vampire life if I lacked sufficient courage for this one confrontation?

By the time I finished dressing and headed downstairs, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I wasn't just doing this for Jake or myself anymore. I was doing it for Edward – to make him proud, to reassure him that he wouldn't regret changing me. To demonstrate how much inner strength I possessed, and that I could apply it just as readily to any other challenge. With my spirits held high, I welcomed Esme's plate of scrambled eggs with a bright smile.

"How about some orange juice?" she offered, hand poised on the refrigerator door.

"Sure, that sounds great." Grasping my fork, I sunk its tines into a fluffy yellow mound and brought it to my lips, ready to savor every bite.

My chewing slowed after a couple seconds. Was it my imagination, or did something not taste quite right? Somewhat self-consciously, I took another tentative bite. It tasted like… it had no flavor. Was that it? Or were the eggs bad? My eyes darted around the granite countertop as I fought to make sense of it.

"Are they too cold? I can warm them up in the microwave."

Now I'd done it. I was in serious danger of hurting Esme's feelings, yet I couldn't stand the thought of taking another bite. I had barely managed to swallow the second mouthful.

"Um, no… they're fine. I'm just not very hungry this morning." Having said that, I suddenly realized it was true. My normal appetite just wasn't there. There really wasn't anything else that even sounded good at the moment.

"If I get hungry later, I'm sure Jake has some random junk food at his house." It was a weak attempt, but it was the best I could come up with.

"Oh yeah, that's right – you're off to see what's-his-face today, aren't you?" Emmett greeted, having just walked in behind me.

"Who?" Rosalie asked nonchalantly beside him.

"That wolf kid, Jason, or Jackal, or something like that."

Rosalie pursed her lips in typical disapproving fashion, which was nothing new. "It's Jacob," I corrected, irritated yet secretly grateful for the diversion.

"Whatever. Tell him we said hi," he shook with laughter at his own joke.

"Will do," I rose from the table as graciously as possible, praying Esme wouldn't say anything as I walked away. But prayers, as nearly everyone knows, aren't always answered how we'd prefer.

"Hope your appetite returns soon, Bella."

I froze in my tracks. Curse her maternal concern. The last thing I needed were others – especially Emmett and Rosalie – inquiring about this. I felt ashamed enough for turning away her famously good cooking; any further embarrassment simply didn't fit today's schedule.

"Th-thanks," I warbled, resuming my steps uncertainly. I overheard Emmett's low voice as I walked away: "She didn't eat breakfast?" Esme murmured something in reply that I couldn't make out. I prayed even harder that whatever it was, she hadn't taken it personally.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before the quiet drive out of Forks settled my thoughts. Finding my way to Jake's house was just like riding a bike. I didn't have to pause for a second to retrace the route. The car purred to a stop just behind the back door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a curtain get pulled aside from the rear bedroom window and then droop back in to place. With any luck, that meant I wouldn't have to knock.

No sooner did I unbuckle my seatbelt and unlock the car door when I was ambushed. The breath whooshed out of me as the gray sky blurred overhead, and suddenly my feet were dangling at least a foot off the ground. Something was compressing my body in an iron grip, and I was drowning in a sea of heat and muscles.

"Bella! I can't believe you're here," Jacob cried out in delight.

As he set me back down on solid ground, I hoped the spinning would subside – in my head as well as my stomach. It didn't. My vision swirled with spots, and I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to make it stop.

"Whoa, Bella, I'm sorry… will you be all right? I didn't mean to knock the wind out of you like that. I guess sometimes I don't know my own strength."

The spinning in my head was gradually subsiding, but the same couldn't be said of my stomach. I winced as my salivary glands went into overdrive. I could only hope to aim away from the car and shield the sight from Jacob. How well I succeeded with the latter, I wasn't too sure… it pretty much became moot once he realized what was happening and stooped down to comfort me. His words of consolation sounded surreal, as if being channeled through a long metal pipe miles away.

"Come on Bella, let's go inside so you can rinse your mouth," the metallic voice was saying. I nodded and allowed a pair of strong hands to lead me across the gravel, through the screen door, and down the narrow hallway to the bathroom. The muffled dialogue of a TV drifted in from somewhere. Cool water flooded my mouth from a plastic cup, dribbling down my chin slightly.

Jake exhaled an anxious sigh. "I feel awful. I had no idea I'd make you that dizzy."

I swished the last of my water and handed him the cup. Leaning back gingerly, I dared to meet his eyes, which were brimming with guilt. That was better than disgust, I supposed. "Don't beat yourself up over it. Truth be told, I don't feel like myself this morning. I haven't had anything to eat yet."

"That might have something to do with it," he shook his head reprovingly. "Geez, don't scare me like that again! I know your new 'family' doesn't eat food, but that doesn't mean you can get away with it too." He rose to open the medicine cabinet above my head. "Take some Pepto just in case. Then we'll get you a bagel or something, okay?"

I nodded, still feeling fairly humiliated. Yet I had to admit things were taking on a comical spin. I'd come here worried about hurting Jacob, and within one minute of arriving, he ended up being the concerned one.

Moments later, a thick hand placed a cup of pink liquid before me. "Here," he instructed simply. "Now what do you want to eat? We've got toast, crackers, bananas…" His voice trailed off suddenly, prompting me to look up at his towering form. He was looking at me strangely, almost as if he didn't recognize me.

"You… smell funny," he stated, wrinkling his nose in confusion more than distaste.

"Big surprise. I just vomited all over your driveway."

"No, it's not that. It's not like I haven't smelled that a million times before. Have you ever witnessed a one-gallon milk chug?"

I cringed. "Thanks for that. Just what I need to settle my stomach."

"Sorry. Anyway, it's something else. I'm sure of it."

"Could it be, oh I don't know, the smell of vampire all over me?" I rinsed the pink residue from my cup. After all, I was living full-time within a nest of vampires now. That had to be pungent for him.

"Very funny," he glowered slightly at me. "Trust me, I don't need to be reminded. But I've been tolerating that stench for a long time now. It's worth it to see you." Not pausing to let his words impact me, he leaned in closer, sniffing the air cautiously as he went. This was getting ridiculous. Whatever it was couldn't be worth an inquisition.

Just when I'd had enough, the most bizarre expression crossed his face. His eyes went from searching to horrified. Color drained from his copper cheeks as he slowly, numbly began to back away. The rinse cup he'd been holding hit the floor with a tinkling bounce.

"Ah… um, Bella… I think… I-I just remembered… my dad needs to be at the doctor in like fifteen minutes. I'm sorry… you n-need to go now…"

I'd have burst out laughing were the situation any more insane. One minute he's giving me a menu to pick from their kitchen, the next he's looking at me like I've grown a second head? I figured this visit would be somewhat awkward, but this bordered on psychotic.

"All right…" I said slowly, scowling skeptically at him. "I guess I should've called first. Will you be around this afternoon?"

Alarm intensified in his deep brown eyes. "There's a pack meeting after lunch, and we've got training exercises afterward." That actually sounded like it might be legitimate, considering he didn't stutter or fumble any of the details. Or maybe he'd just scraped together some composure.

"What about tomorrow?"

His jaw – and fists – were clenched tightly now. "Bella, I think you should really be at home right now. Be around your… family." Was he serious? It broke my heart and astounded me. He'd decline my company and actually ask that I return to those he calls "bloodsuckers?"

I stood up. "Jake, what is going on? You're acting really, really weird. I mean, you were fine a minute ago. What could have possibly happened in the last sixty seconds?"

He broke eye contact and retreated into the doorway as I advanced a few steps. It was like he thought I was radioactive.

"Are you still weirded out by me and Edward? Well, get over it. We're married now. As much as you dislike it, that's just the way things are." I paused to take a deep, calming breath. "I know it's weird now. But for a few hours, I thought we could try to focus on what's good instead of what's weird."

Still edging away from me, he shut his eyes in pain. What he said next came in a tense whisper as his body trembled. "Please don't make this any worse, Bella. I know you're mad. And I don't blame you. But please believe me… it's not what you think."

With that, he pushed one clenched hand against the door frame and spun back into the hallway. Shoulders slumped and head hanging in torment, he muttered the last words I heard from him that day: "You'll figure it out soon enough."

Momentarily paralyzed, I heard the back door slam shut. He was nowhere to be seen when I timidly stepped out a minute later. Tears streamed down my face the entire drive home, but none released any insight on how to make sense of anything.

**The next few chapters will be uploaded later this week. Thanks for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6: Sounds

**Happy Friday! **

**I greatly appreciate the kind words in everyone's reviews... as you might guess, I'm not a typical teenage Twilight fan (though there's certainly nothing wrong with that). Five years of marriage has given me a mature perspective from which to write, and I'm honored that others enjoy it. **

**CHAPTER 6 - Sounds**

**Edward**

I'd expected Bella to return until well after lunchtime, maybe even after dinner. She understood that these past two weeks were exclusively hers to schedule as she pleased. Our mutual trust was growing steadily healthier, and I no longer felt the need to obsess over the clock whenever she visited Jacob or went anywhere else unsupervised.

That's why, when I heard her pull into the garage half an hour after leaving, I couldn't have been more shocked. And when she stood before me with eyes red and swollen from crying, I was at a total loss for words.

"He sent me home," she stated flatly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

I blinked twice. "Already? You couldn't have been there more than five minutes."

"And what a fun five minutes they were," she grumbled while nestling next to me on the bed. "I can't even believe what happened. First, I threw up in front of him, which was bad enough. Then he started acting really weird, almost like he was afraid of me. It was seriously insane–"

"Wait," I raised my hand to interrupt, "You threw up? What?"

She rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Yeah, just super. It was partly his fault for spinning me around, though I wasn't feeling the best to begin with. But that's not the worst part. He made excuses not to see me again." Her voice cracked as a few more tears leaked.

This was bizarre indeed. I didn't even know where to start. "Let me get this straight. He sends you home after vomiting and purposely refuses you a raincheck? That doesn't sound like Jacob at all."

"You're telling me. I've never seen him so… cryptic."

"How do you mean?"

"He said I'd figure out his reason 'soon enough.'" Rubbing her eyes, she snorted from the recollection of one last detail. "Oh, and he said I 'smelled funny' too. So incredibly charming."

My head cocked slightly to the side. This was most curious. Surely Jacob was long accustomed to "our" smell on Bella. It seemed spiteful and useless to point it out for the hundredth time. What, then, could have compelled him to say such a thing? Was there truly something different about her scent? And if so, how had it gone unnoticed by me?

"Do you mind if I check for myself? Competitive noses, you know."

"Sure, knock yourself out," she sniffed, waving an apathetic hand.

Closing the gap between us, I concentrated on the air passing through my nostrils. At first, I detected nothing out of the ordinary. The sweet smell of her blood was still as beautiful as ever. Possibly even more so, I amended. In fact, it seemed… fuller. The difference might be compared to that of a bouquet of roses versus a single one. It was broader, more intense, filling my senses to new limits. Could this be the difference Jacob had so tastelessly observed? While that was possible, I had my doubts. My instincts told me otherwise.

Now intoxicatingly close to Bella, I couldn't help but indulge in her presence. My original quest was quickly forgotten as I inhaled even more of her essence. It coursed through my entire being, electrifying me in ways I'd never experienced. Vaguely in the back of my mind, I hoped she'd be agreeable to the sudden change in plans and wouldn't object to finishing our discussion later. Though she seemed hesitant at first, my tender caresses soon melted away her reluctance. Kisses trailed down her neck and chest, ending at her abdomen where I stroked the curves of her waist.

That's when I heard it. So faint, I nearly missed it.

I halted my amorous moves uncertainly, hands frozen on Bella's hips, listening intently.

Everything collided at once. A nuclear bomb detonated in the center of my mind. In a flash, my hands dropped and I sprung back, Bella's confusion ringing in my ears.

All I could do was stare. Stare at her flat, clothed stomach, the fabric shifting across it now as she rose to approach me. Her exasperated face hovered at the upper edge of my vision. "Cut it out Edward. I'm really not in the mood for any more crap today, so just quit whatever you're doing. I don't care if you think it's funny."

Part of me recognized she was upset and was grossly misinterpreting my actions, but that part wasn't strong enough to actually form words. Though I wished otherwise, I couldn't tear my eyes away from that spot, that terribly riveting spot. The secret it had just revealed to me was heavier than the entire world, the entire universe.

"I swear to you Edward Cullen, one more second and there will be hell to pay."

Whether it was the murderous edge to her words or the absurdity behind the threat itself, it succeeded in bringing my foggy eyes up to hers. She was furious. And I was petrified.

"Y-you're…"

"I'm what? Funny-smelling? Apparently horrifying? Tell me. I just can't get enough of that in one day."

My mouth parted, lips twitching as they tried to shape the impossible word. Denial clashed with the irrefutable proof before me. Yet as much as I might wish otherwise, there was no denying what I had heard. The sound had quivered against my ear drums with singular, unspeakable beauty. It had beckoned to me, casting its net in layers of mystery deeper than any ocean. Humble and faint, yet thunderously powerful, its echoes would linger for ages to come.

Eventually the tension snapped and the truth forced its way out, hissing through my teeth.

"…pregnant."

It was her turn to speechlessly stare. Involuntarily, her arms crossed in front of her chest, subconsciously defending her body from this wild accusation. "What did you just say?" she whispered in utter disbelief.

I lowered my gaze once more to her midriff. Realization was slowly starting to dawn on me. "That's what Jacob smelled…" I trailed off, eyes hazing over as the pieces fell into place. "They can detect hormones better than us. It all makes sense… sending you home, suddenly uncomfortable… of course." Galvanized by this sudden clarity of mind, I grasped Bella's shoulders and peered into her eyes, fixed and unblinking. "This also explains the vomiting."

I waited in breathless anticipation for her to respond. Behind her mask, I saw the wheels madly turning.

"You can't be serious."

"Bella, don't you see? I heard a heartbeat. Another one besides your own. It was faint but fast, pumping away deep inside you." Though it was basically irrelevant now, something else occurred to me. I squared my shoulders before continuing. "I take it you weren't… on anything?"

She narrowed her eyes, suspecting the implication but wanting to confirm it. "You mean, the Pill or something?"

I nodded somewhat sheepishly.

"What reason would I possibly have for that?" she spat. "Edward, you're the one who told me we could never have children. Besides, that stuff is carcinogenic. It's nasty."

"It's what?" I faltered.

"Class 1 carcinogens… the same category as cigarettes. The World Health Organization added birth control to that list a while ago. Call me crazy, but I don't want that in me."

"Oh. I never knew…"

"Most people don't," she said sharply.

Taking her face in my hands, I locked her unblinking eyes with mine. "Bella, do you realize there's something else you may not want in you right now? Something potentially a million times worse than cancer? We just don't know how your body will react, how well it can handle carrying this… whatever it is," I shook my head in disgust and lowered my voice. "It could kill you, for all we know."

"What are you saying?" suspicion laced her words. "You know how I feel about abortion. And besides, there's no guarantee it will hurt me. None of you even knew this was possible… how can you go from total ignorance to absolute certainty just like that?"

I suddenly felt the need to rub my eyes. She was making a valid point, technically. There were no guarantees – but that worked both ways. If I had to concede the possibility that everything would be fine, she needed to concede the opposite. Maybe, just maybe, if we met in the middle we'd have a fighting chance of surviving this, though the entire prospect was still nauseatingly overwhelming.

A child. My child. The words simply didn't belong together. They defied every sort of natural law. The ultimate violation of beauty, sanity, and reason. It would surely be the most freakish of monstrosities.

Wouldn't it? Or was I succumbing to the same unfounded certainty Bella had just challenged? Seeing her now – soft brown hair, chocolate eyes full of heartbreaking vulnerability, delicate skin flushing – my self-destructive thoughts fractured. How horrendous could the result of our union be? If marriage was a vehicle for mutual redemption, could Bella's half atone for mine? Did it have the power to transform ugliness into beauty?

I suddenly saw how wholly inappropriate my mode of thinking had been. Here I was, facing my wife whose body had received my gift against all odds, yet I had the audacity to choose fear over faith? It was enough to make me laugh, though I resisted the urge. When at last I refocused my eyes on Bella's, it was to express my sincere change of heart.

"I've been a little foolish, it would seem," I began softly. "It's just… this is the first time I've ever needed… faith, if that's what it is. I'm not entirely comfortable with it yet." Gently, I lowered one hand to rest between her hips, savoring the soft warmth beneath my palm. "But whatever we made, whatever's in there, has to be something good. Life, even when it's impossible and frightening, is always good."

Gratitude overflowed her eyes, and neither of us needed to speak another word. That is, until I guided her out of our room, still lovingly enveloped in my arms, and walked down to knock on Carlisle's study.

"Hello there, you two," he greeted, looking up from the huge medical volume on his desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Remember how you wanted me to let you know if anything… happened?" I began, pressing Bella against my side.


	7. Chapter 7: History

**CHAPTER 7 - History**

**Carlisle**

When Edward shut the door behind them, I knew it was serious. Bella appeared to be mute with fear; I viscerally reassured myself that at least she was ambulatory.

Edward seated himself across from me with an air more somber than I'd seen in quite some time. He reached over between their armrests to hold Bella's hand; her eyes darted everywhere but my face. This had to be serious indeed.

Doing my best to curb my own mounting anxiety, I clasped my hands in front of me and donned the mask of calm confidence I'd long ago mastered. The key was in forcing your eyes to smile. "Yes, I do remember asking that of you. I'm glad you've taken my request seriously," I cleared my throat and glanced in Bella's direction. "So, what did you want to tell me?"

Edward too was avoiding my eyes now, and I could tell he was struggling to choose the right words. Once or twice he appeared ready to speak, only to abort the attempt and mentally regroup. My curiosity – and alarm – were approaching record levels, but still I presented a cool façade.

"There's no way to say this that won't leave you speechless," he finally said, willing himself to look at me. "But ten minutes ago, Bella and I discovered something… incredible."

Those words, though puzzling in themselves, came as sweet relief. Those weren't the words of a couple whose more fragile counterpart was suffering from something gravely harmful. I allowed the muscles in my neck to relax a fraction. "Go on."

Edward's eyes bored into mine with unwavering intensity. "Dad, Bella's pregnant."

He had been absolutely correct. There was no way to deliver that message without rendering me completely speechless. But that wasn't to say I'd been taken completely by surprise.

Even now, after all these years, I relied on very human gestures to cope with stress – leaning back in my chair, I grazed the back of my head with interlocked hands and released my breath in a long, soothing stream. My eyes fluttered shut for a second.

"First, I must ask if you're positive," I enunciated each word with crystal clarity. "Beyond a shadow of a doubt."

When I opened my eyes, Edward still hadn't dropped his gaze. If anything, it had grown more intense. "I am. I heard the heartbeat myself."

A heartbeat? If that was true, it could mean…

"I don't know anything about a normal human pregnancy, much less this. We're scared, but at the same time we're… ecstatic," Edward turned to confirm that sentiment with Bella. Her smile, albeit weak and uncertain, expressed more than words ever could; trust filled it from one upturned edge to the other.

My elbows came back down to rest on the desk as I folded my hands pensively. "I understand. And normally, I'd be scared too." Both appeared stricken, so I hastily continued, "In this case, however, I believe there may be nothing to fear."

"What's keeping you from being scared, as you said you'd normally be?" Edward challenged, angling his head warily. "And we 'may' have nothing to fear? Just what is that supposed to mean?"

I smiled, and this time it was genuine. " Allow me to explain. Several months ago, a particularly difficult research project had me digging through some rather… obscure papers. I'll spare you the details, but in the end, I stumbled upon something I'd never seen before," I explained, tracking their reactions. "It was the only documented account of a human-vampire pregnancy."

Their astonished faces were mirror images. "The story didn't have a happy ending. The child was too incompatible with the mother's physiology and she died within minutes of childbirth. Without a more detailed account, though, I can't identify what went wrong or if it could have been avoided." I looked pointedly at the two of them. "But I do know the child was said to have had no pulse. He was like us."

I knew Edward would be the first to follow my train of thought, only because he was long accustomed to maneuvering the complexities of our world.

"So you theorize that because our child has a heartbeat, it could be different," he stated rather than asked.

"Precisely. It can only increase the odds in Bella's favor. Anything that differentiates her condition from the other woman's should, through optimistic logic, render a favorable outcome more likely. Especially since the difference happens to be notably human."

Edward's features pinched together. "How does this all figure? How can our child be more human than that of any other human-vampire union?"

"If I had to make an educated guess," I tilted my chair back thoughtfully, "It could be simple genetics. Everything has a dominant and recessive trait – eye color, ear lobes, even taste buds. And they don't always behave like you'd expect. Some biracial fraternal twins are born one black, one white," I added with a smile. "Bella's genes appear to have overruled yours, at least with the circulatory system."

The nonverbal expression of hope they exchanged was touching to see. Edward brought his other hand over to rest atop Bella's, pure joy diffusing his features as he looked at her as if for the first time. "We're lucky, then," he said in awe. "We have a real chance at a happy ending. It's… unbelievable."

"It is. But I should warn you, there's no telling to what extent Bella's traits will be dominant. Although she 'won' the heart, your influence may be present elsewhere." As much as I'd love to deliver a strictly positive prognosis, there were still potential dangers I was ethically bound to divulge. "Your superhuman strength, for instance," I said solemnly, shifting my gaze to Bella. "Bella, you will need to pay very close attention to how you feel each day. Even though you stand a better than average chance, we still need to monitor you closely. Do you understand?"

I watched as her previous joy ebbed slightly. Though it pained me to dishearten them, we could not afford to lose sight of the fact that this was my son's child, which by default warranted elevated caution. The moment we allowed ourselves to be swept away in miraculous rapture could land us in a catastrophically vulnerable position.

"Yes, I understand," she replied, body language exhibiting modest courage.

"Good. Just to be clear, I don't anticipate you having any problems with… compatibility. Your system shouldn't struggle too much to support the baby, and I think it will respond well to regular food." Leaning forward intently, I paused to gather their attention for what I was about to emphasize. "There may be a few bumps in the road, but believe me – this could be much, much worse."

"We believe you," Edward assured me sincerely before his voice softened. "And we'll do everything we can to help you take proper care of Bella and the baby."

"I'm certain you will. Now, if don't mind, I'd like to do a full examination and ask Bella a few questions."


	8. Chapter 8: Growth

**CHAPTER 8 – Growth **

**Bella**

It wasn't the nausea that bothered me most; it had disappeared almost as soon as it had come. Nor was it the heroic appetite that had taken its place overnight. It wasn't the hazy fatigue that often limited my waking hours to five or six a day. Carlisle had assured me this was all normal, and so long as those constituted the worst of my complaints, he couldn't be more relieved.

No, the worst part by far was the spotlight – the stares that always seemed to follow me from one room to the other. They ranged anywhere from fascination to unease, envy to quiet jubilation. At least they corresponded to those you'd expect, for the most part. Jasper, now more terrified than ever, went out of his way to avoid being left alone with me. Alice didn't give him any grief about it; I'd often catch her in the midst of yet another daydream, distant eyes watching visions only she could see.

Emmett's attention was, not surprisingly, the least subtle of all, periodically blurting jokes about the baby's conception. His eyes must have grown tired from all the winks he threw in Edward's direction. Rosalie was civil, though she spent little more time in my presence than Jasper. I couldn't blame her. She and Esme wore similar masks these days.

Especially once my stomach started to expand. Though I did my best to downplay it with some of Edward's t-shirts, those who had been compulsively watching for it weren't fooled for long.

Of course, it didn't help that my gestation period was slightly accelerated. Carlisle had estimated the baby to be growing around three weeks ahead of schedule, though he predicted the rate would gradually slow as the pregnancy progressed. Yet that did nothing to help me presently, finding myself resorting to larger clothes earlier than most women.

This, naturally, only enthralled Edward all the more. His stares were the most persistent of all, but at least their adoring affection made them bearable. There wasn't a morning I woke up without his arm draped across my waist, one hand cradling the steadily growing bulge between my hips. It might be his way of coming to terms with reality – acceptance and familiarity through constant contact. Whatever the case, I appreciated his gestures. They made the whole experience feel more… integrated. His undying love for me and for someone we hadn't even met was channeled clearly through every look, every touch, every kiss on my belly.

Carlisle had been instrumental in easing Edward's mind. Our weekly ultrasound sessions invariably led to both of their faces glowing with relief. Last week, Carlisle had gone so far as to say that if nothing critical had yet happened, the odds were great that the remaining weeks would continue in similar form. Baby Cullen had received a flurry of kisses that day.

Edward was acclimating fairly well to all this. Why couldn't I seem to?

As I lounged on our bed one afternoon, pondering the endless treetops beneath which Edward was currently hunting, my hand drifted to my stomach, pressing it lightly with my fingertips. It felt so firm and unyielding. Just like Edward's resolve that I remain in the house until the baby was born.

There was no compromising with him on it. I'd vainly tried once or twice in the beginning, but his decision was fiercely final. He acknowledged it undercut the progress we'd made in terms of trust and free reign, but he considered this regression a small price to pay to protect our child. He drew the line at something this immensely precious.

Though I couldn't argue with him, this policy had to be responsible for my listless mood. I'd been without any outside social contact for over three months now. The excuse I gave Charlie was always the same: I'd picked up a new job at Kohl's, and they needed my help so much I was putting in crazy hours. Sometimes two shifts in a row, leaving me just enough time to sleep before the next one. It was a creative lie – someone was demanding nearly all my time and energy, and my sleep schedule was definitely erratic these days.

My complaint wasn't a matter of boredom; I could manage that well enough between the Cullens' DVD collection and library. It was the specific injustice of my condition. Pregnant women deserve to share their miracle with the world. The experience should be both public and private, with nosy strangers asking to touch the baby and offering endless pieces of advice. Pregnancy brought people together, strengthening old bonds and forging new ones you'd never find otherwise. It was dynamic, engaging, and full of wonder. Except for me.

_Well Bella, what did you expect? You're the one who fell in love with a mythical creature, married him, and conceived his baby within weeks. Does that really add up to "average?"_

I sighed, looking down at the mound beneath my shirt. I wanted so badly to share my joy – our joy – with the world. It didn't seem right to keep such a wonderful secret.

That's why, when he returned that evening, I gathered the entire family to convene in the living room to address the issue.

"How am I supposed to survive nine months cooped up inside?" I demanded. "I need some fresh air once in a while."

"Technically, it won't be a full nine months," Edward said smartly before growing serious. "And that fresh air can carry your new, stronger scent a long way. Possibly even as far as the reservation."

I crumpled my nose. "So what if it does?"

He held my gaze with more gravity than ever "We can't be sure how the rest of them might react. We have to assume they'll consider it a threat." His eyes drifted involuntarily to my slightly rounded middle. "Remember how Jacob reacted when you saw him two months ago? He kicked you out. He couldn't stand to be around you, knowing what… was inside."

Imagining what Jacob must have felt the moment he recognized the scent was Edward's baby… it had to have been overwhelming. The sting of it being another man's child, compounded by that man being your natural enemy. Personal offense and primal instinct couldn't have been dealt a heavier blow. His actions had felt brusque and hurtful at the time; only now did I recognize them as displaying truly impressive self-control. It was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

For the first time, I pondered the full import of how our future would be affected. I may never see Jacob again. Not only that, but I could be the hapless cause of even further animosity between two factions who barely tolerate each other. And all because of a new life, so misunderstood and feared. It was the ultimate unjust imbalance: sweet innocence met with festering mistrust at every turn. When it wasn't being flagged as a threat to my well-being, it was boded as one to everyone else's.

Across the room, Carlisle eased forward in his seat. "Edward, if I may make a point?" He received a curt nod before continuing. "If Jacob was that unsettled, I highly doubt he would have kept the news to himself for long, especially if he considered it a threat. I'd say the better part of the tribe knows by now."

Edward glowered. "And that's supposed to be of consolation?"

"It is, since they haven't chosen to confront us yet. One would think they'd act sooner rather than later to defuse something so dire."

Jaw set, Edward pondered Carlisle's logic for a few moments. Though I dared not show it, a glimmer of hope sparked somewhere deep within me. At last he relented.

"All right, I suppose that makes sense. But what are you suggesting? That I let Bella wander around wherever she wants? You know I can't agree to that." He looked at me with brooding eyes. "If anything happened to them, I'd never recover."

Esme spoke up. "Is there any reason you can't accompany her on short trips, Edward?"

He didn't answer, but I did hear the faintest growl rise in his throat. Even so, I wasn't deterred from chiming in. "She's right. All I want is to see Charlie once in a while, or actually go to the store. It doesn't have to be anything huge… we can go straight there and straight back. Please?" I was prepared to beg quite fervently if necessary. I couldn't stand the thought of spending another day trapped inside this citadel.

Even before his beautiful mouth granted me permission, I knew he'd consent. I could see it in his amber eyes.

"Fine," he assented, entwining his fingers between mine in my lap. "If it will make you happy, you name the day, and we'll visit Charlie." He stared off absently. "But no visiting Jacob. I don't care how favorable things might appear."

"Fair enough," Carlisle praised. "Given the circumstances, I'd say that's the best solution."

"I'll say," Alice piped up, grinning. "It means I actually get to take her shopping. As long as Edward chaperones us, of course," she winked at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9: Warmth

**CHAPTER 9 – Warmth**

**Bella**

Wet, heavy clumps of snow hit the windshield in front of me, melting almost immediately on contact. I tried to relax my eyes enough to take in the whole expanse of their patterns. After a couple minutes, I came to the disappointing conclusion that it was impossible.

Much like unbuckling my seatbelt.

"Bella dear, I don't think Charlie will come out to us, especially in this weather," Edward's velvet voice teased.

I bit my lip. "Just give me another minute."

"We've already been out here ten. Pretty soon he'll grow suspicious and end up calling… himself," he chuckled.

"Ha, ha. Don't push me. You're not the one about to face your semi-estranged father."

He laughed again. "I'm also not the one who begged for this in the first place. Quite persistently, I might add. You have a curious way of showing your appreciation."

I turned to give him a pleading look. "Edward, put yourself in his shoes. You last saw your daughter in August. Now it's Christmas and she shows up pregnant. Your choices are to either have a heart attack, or try to give your son-in-law one."

"What makes you say that?" he soothed, placing an arm across my shoulders. "Don't you think he'd be happy to have a grandchild? It's not like we aren't married."

"I know, but he's always planned for me to go to college. He won't be too happy about anything that complicates that." I let out a dejected breath. "Plus, he's going to find out we've been lying to him about Kohl's all this time."

"I see," he nodded. "But what's the worst that could happen? Even if he pulls out his shotgun, you and I both know it won't leave a scratch."

Sometimes, his sense of humor was just a little too dark for my liking. Yet before I could even shake my head, he'd released my seatbelt and thrust open the passenger door, inviting in a rush of cold, damp air that dropped snow clumps on my lap.

"The longer we wait, the harder it will be," he murmured in my ear. "Just trust me. Everything will be fine. Now let's go enjoy dinner and share the good news with Charlie."

Knowing it was futile to argue, much less shut the door again, I willed my legs to swivel outward, planting my boots into the edge of the snow bank. Snowflakes filled my vision and splattered across my cheeks as I eased myself forward, careful not to bend too much at the waist. Edward had recently had a fit over how "recklessly" I'd been moving; he guided me up now with ever-watchful eyes.

As he shut the car door, I straightened and smoothed my coat with both gloved hands and glanced downward, appraising the black quilted fabric. Alice had bought it for me last week on our first shopping excursion. It had a faux fur-lined collar and came all the way down to my knees. I felt extremely conspicuous wearing it.

"Are you sure you can't tell with the coat on?" I asked dubiously.

"Not at all," he assured me with a kiss on my forehead. "He won't know a moment before you decide to tell him."

Peering through the curtain of snow at the little house before me, I knew it was now or never. My feet slipped and slid over the unplowed mounds and crisscrossing tire tracks, steadied by Edward's right arm with present was tucked securely under his left. Our passage seemed to take forever, but at last we scaled the front steps and Edward rang the doorbell. Shielded from the snow by the porch overhang, the door was now startlingly clear before my eyes. It seemed to throb in the moments prior to Charlie opening it.

When he did, it was difficult to read his expression. Three or more emotions appeared to be mingling together. I saw incredulous, relieved joy, but it was being held in check by something else. Resentment? Maybe, but even that was tempered by a sort of curiosity, a sense of intrigue. I'd never known my dad to be psychic, yet something in his eyes hinted at knowing this would be a singular visit.

Finally finding his voice, he leaned in to hug me, flannel shirt brushing against my cheek. "Bella… it's so good to see you," he said simply, squeezing me tightly before stepping back to regard Edward. His features turned less welcoming as he extended his hand. "Hello Edward."

Edward's head bowed slightly in deference. "Hello sir, and merry Christmas."

Charlie returned the nod and backed up to give us room to enter. Edward's coat was off before I finished unlacing my boots. Dressed in a devastatingly well-fitting blue cashmere sweater, white shirt collar peeking up through the v-neck, he passed his wool coat to Charlie.

"I'll take yours too, Bells."

My face flushed violently. "Ehm, no thanks Dad, not right now… I need to warm up still," I stuttered self-consciously, feeling Edward's knowing eyes on me.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and led us back to the living room. Behind his line of sight, Edward placed a reassuring hand on the small of my back.

Everything looked just as it had four months ago – brown suede couch littered with old throw pillows and a folded afghan draped across the back. A few stray beer cans could be seen here and there, but overall, I had to give him credit for picking up in anticipation of our visit. In the far corner he'd stuffed a small Christmas tree with a modest decoration job. Beneath it sat a handful of wrapped presents.

Sinking down into what I called the "quicksand couch," I felt my heart flutter. Charlie resumed his established seat in the recliner and leaned back, assessing us from across the room. I braced myself for some awkward tension, but Edward made a preemptive move.

"Bella and I are so pleased to have the opportunity to see you before you leave for Connecticut," he said politely.

Charlie cleared his throat, crossing his ankles on the footrest. "Yes, well, Cindy really wanted me to meet her family. She's already out there, you know."

"So Bella tells me. Have you two set a wedding date yet?"

I knew what he was doing. Providing a cushion of small talk, stalling the big revelation to give me time to steady my nerves. It was what any good husband would do, yet it always seemed to be a double-edged sword; delaying the inevitable can be just as painful as diving directly into it.

"We were thinking early June," Charlie replied. "She wants something simple, which is fine with me."

"That's great. Did you get each other anything for Christmas?"

He shrugged in ambivalence. "Nothing much. She got me a new wallet and I got her a bracelet at Kohl's." His eyes shifted to me. "I was hoping to see you there, Bella, but I must've come at the wrong time."

My face flushed anew with anguished guilt, and I wanted the couch to swallow me even more. Once again, Edward was my savior. "If it makes you feel any better, sir, Bella hasn't seen much of anyone in the past few months." His apologetic look was directed at me rather than Charlie.

Grunting to himself, Charlie crossed his arms. "Well, at least that's changed now. And not a moment too soon. It'd be a real shame to miss you at Christmas," he said, and then with mild concern asked, "Are you still cold, Bella? I can turn up the heat if you like."

A thick lump formed in my throat as I felt the blood drain from my face. Next to me, Edward turned, feigning a casual attitude. "Yes Bella, is there anything you'd like Charlie to know?" he said gently. Still being the good husband – knowing when to quit stalling and courageously face reality. I'd have to be sure to thank him later.

_You're an adult, Bella. A mature, married adult. You can do this._

I fidgeted with the edge of my sleeves, unable to look at my father. "Um, Dad, there's something I – we – need to tell you. Well, there are a couple things, actually."

"That's right," Edward reinforced. Thank goodness he was sharing the responsibility and not leaving this entirely on my shoulders. "We haven't been completely honest with you about certain things. But if you'll bear with us, I promise it will be worth it in the end."

Charlie's arms stiffened against his chest. "All right, go ahead," he said slowly.

"May I?" Edward addressed me quietly, seeking permission to lead still. I nodded dumbly.

"Sir, Bella hasn't been working at Kohl's. She never had a job there."

Charlie's frown was more confused than angered. "What? Then why would you tell me she was?"

Edward released my hand, but not before giving it one last squeeze. "I think the answer to that question can best be shown by Bella," he said in admiration, gesturing for me to rise.

I did so on knees that threatened to collapse at any moment, yet somehow I found myself standing, now the undisputed center of attention in this tiny room. Charlie's eyes were widely inquisitive as they watched my trembling form; Edward's were eagerly expectant, barely containing his pride. Never had I held such a captive audience. And the show must go on.

Slowly, ceremoniously, the zipper tugged its way downward, teeth separating in a long purr. A minute later, my coat fell to the floor in a pile of black quilted satin.

My protruding stomach was now on full display, its curves accentuated by the cream wool turtleneck I wore. I tried to position my eyes so that I could read Charlie's reaction without actually meeting his gaze. Time slowed to an agonizing pace as I waited for him to spot the incongruity in my appearance. Once he did, he began to blink furiously.

Had he not already been sitting he would have surely collapsed. "Y-you're… pregnant?" he said incredulously, unable to believe his eyes.

"Yes," Edward rose to stand beside me, placing his hand on my belly, "We're expecting a baby. You're going to be a grandfather," he said with a grin.

"Wow, that was… quick," he ran a distracted hand behind his neck. "Really quick. Are you two sure you're ready for this?"

I summoned the courage to speak. "Look Dad, I know you probably think it's too soon. We realize it's a little sudden, but sometimes life is like that." One of my hands joined Edward's. "Honestly, we didn't come here today to stress you out. We just want you to be as happy as we are," I turned my face upward to find Edward smiling.

Charlie took a long, deep breath, uncrossed his arms and began rubbing his thighs absent-mindedly. He was still transfixed by my stomach. "I suppose it's all moot now anyway. What's done is done. Congratulations, you two. You should make great parents."

"Thanks, Dad," I leaned down to give him a hug, to which he reacted as if I was approaching him with a knife.

"Oh no, no, don't bend down, I'll get up," he flailed both arms while snapping the footrest shut. I was growing accustomed to people's over-exaggerated caution, but I still had to laugh when he angled his body as far away from mine as possible, as if even the slightest contact with my stomach would burn him. As we finished our awkward embrace, he stuffed his hands into his pockets before addressing Edward in a stern voice. "You'd better be taking good care of them, son."

I could just about imagine the vicious thoughts running through his mind, all the assumptions surrounding the baby's early conception. Naturally he'd blame the father. Men were always the ones exhibiting lack of self control, putting on the pressure with no regard to consequences. Little did he know the true circumstances, I thought with a smile.

"You have my word," Edward pledged, guiding me to sit back down.

Apparently satisfied with the sincerity in Edward's eyes, Charlie appeared unsure of what to say next. He seemed uncomfortable staring at my belly any longer, yet he couldn't seem to find another logical point on which to rest his vision. "Do you, ah, know what you're having?"

"Not yet. We'll find out at Bella's appointment next week," Edward answered, rubbing my stomach in small circles.

Charlie nodded. "And when is it… due?"

"May 10."

With that, I saw Charlie's mind engage in some silent calendar counting. Assuming we'd conceived on our wedding night, it passably added up. He couldn't possibly guess that the infertile part of my cycle had landed during our honeymoon.

"Just one more question. What does this all have to do with the Kohl's thing?"

Edward and I exchanged glances, not entirely sure who should answer. Edward ultimately did. "There were some… concerns about the pregnancy in the beginning," he chose his words carefully. "Carlisle wanted to monitor Bella closely for a while. We didn't want you to worry, so we invented the Kohl's alibi."

Charlie looked instantly stricken. "Concerns? Is she all right now?"

"Yes, absolutely, Carlisle says everything is fine. Better than fine, actually," immense gratitude laced his words.

Still somewhat anxious, Charlie exhaled. "I hope so. I trust Carlisle, but Edward, she's my daughter. If Bella's health is at risk carrying this baby, I need to know now." The stern edge had returned to his voice.

"Dad, really, I feel fine," I interjected. "We wouldn't have come here if I didn't. Look, I feel great. A little tired, but honestly, that's all. We only told you that now so you'd understand why we lied."

He paused to study me, scrutinizing everything from head to toe. I wasn't worried. I knew he'd see some faint bags under my eyes, but he'd also see the healthy layer of fat insulating my torso, the new fullness of my breasts. Even my hair felt thicker and shinier these days. Nobody would have the least reason to suspect my body was nourishing a vampire's baby. It was pretty crazy when I thought about it.

Having found nothing to contradict my assertion, Charlie's shoulders relaxed, though he seemed more resigned than genuinely relieved. "All right. But if anything happens, you call me immediately."

"You'll be the first to know," Edward promised. "Now, if I recall correctly, we should be getting a turkey dinner at some point," he winked at me. "And I believe my beautiful wife is hungry, especially since she's eating for two." I rolled my eyes. Of course he'd heard my stomach growl just now.

Charlie's dinner was better than I'd expected, and I suspected Cindy had probably coached him over the phone. As the meal progressed, the tension between him and Edward gradually lessened, and by the time I finished my second helping, they were actually laughing together. It felt like the beginning of a real, amiable father-son relationship – something I'd always feared Charlie's mistrust might prevent from developing.

To have my dad finally at ease around the love of my life was the best Christmas gift I could ask for, though we still appreciated the coffee maker he'd given us. Well, I should say we appreciated the thought. A pregnant woman and a vampire who never sleeps aren't the ideal recipients for a caffeinated beverage maker, but Charlie had been blissfully unaware of those conditions when he bought it.

As much as I wished we could stay later, my system began to shut down an hour after dinner. Driving home through the swirling remnants of the afternoon's blizzard, I cherished the warmth from that evening. Had I known how drastic a turn tomorrow would take, I would have held onto that warmth and refused to let go.


	10. Chapter 10: Summons

**CHAPTER 10 – Summons **

**Edward**

As always, I let Bella sleep in until whatever hour her body elected. Even Alice's eagerness to take Bella shopping again couldn't be allowed to interrupt her sleep. I periodically heard her pacing in the hallway, no doubt checking for the hundredth time to see if our door was open yet.

I smiled to myself, drinking in the poetry of Bella's sleeping form, the gentle rise and fall of her swollen stomach. I could empathize somewhat with Alice's urgency. She'd been insisting Bella needed proper maternity clothes, and I had noticed her shirts growing consistently tauter. But it was hardly an emergency worth waking the mother of my unborn child. However badly her body needed new clothes, it needed rest far more. Alice could wear a track into the carpet for all I cared.

Then, after nearly half an hour of predictable movement, the pacing stopped. It took me a moment to register the change in ambience. Something about its abruptness struck me as odd. I hadn't heard her footsteps descend the stairs. It sounded as though she'd halted mid-stride.

With Alice, that could mean only one thing.

By the time recognition dawned, she'd cracked the door open a few inches to peer cautiously inside. "Is she still asleep?" she whispered far below what Bella could hear. Nodding mutely, I caught the alarm in her eyes.

"I need to talk to you. Now."

I shivered inwardly at her tone. The last time I'd heard it that imperative… I tried to push the memory away as I joined her in the hall. "I take it you saw something?"

She inhaled a shaky breath. "Edward, Jane and Alec are coming here."

"Here…? As in this house?"

"Yes," she hissed. "And we don't have much time. They'll be here in less than two hours."

Alarms were blaring in my head. Nothing good could come of this. Whenever the Volturi initiated contact, it wasn't to extend an invitation for afternoon tea and pleasant conversation. Their motives were never as altruistic as they claimed. But what could draw them here now? They couldn't possibly know about…

Alice and I both looked warily over our shoulders at the bedroom door, opened just enough to reveal Bella's figure. The same anxious thought crossed both our minds in that instant.

"Looks like it's time for another family meeting," I said stiffly.

Fifteen minutes later, the infamous Cullen clan was once again assembled downstairs, posed in various tense stances around the room. Not one of us preferred to sit. Try as he may, Jasper was making little progress mitigating the stress. Carlisle leaned forward, arms braced against the back of the couch as he collected his thoughts.

"We gain nothing by panicking. Bella needs us to be clear-headed now more than ever," he advised. "Given Bella's very limited exposure, it's unlikely Alec and Jane know of her pregnancy. They may simply want to ascertain whether or not we've fulfilled our vow to change her."

Rosalie snorted. "As if that's going to end any better."

"Yeah, really. They'll be pissed enough to see she's still human, much less when they see what Eddie put inside her," Emmett remarked, earning a glare from me. "It's a no-win situation."

"Unless," Esme began thoughtfully, "we hide Bella. Tell them she's off visiting her mother and step-father in Florida and won't be back for a couple weeks."

"Then they'll make it a point to return next month. If they're determined to settle this, they won't forget," I growled.

Carlisle sighed. "Alice, I don't suppose you can see any parts of their conversation? Anything to give us an idea of what to expect?"

Leaning against the mantle, Alice closed her eyes again, face contorting as she replayed her earlier vision. Everyone waited in silence, each desperately hoping for her to identify something. Our last shred of hope hung between fuzzy remnants of things not yet passed. "Mmm, I see Jane searching the house. She finishes. Her expression is… smug. Unperturbed. She looks at Alec and says, "…_changes nothing. Aro will see them regardless_.'" The eerie quality her voice adopted when speaking those words was unnerving.

Nobody spoke for a minute, each set of eyes exchanging a dozen unspoken questions. When Carlisle finally resumed, the incorrigible optimism was gone from his voice. "It seems some of us will be making a trip to Italy," he pocketed his hands while directing a remorseful look at me. "For now, the best we can manage is to remove Bella during their visit. Send her to Charlie's for the day. At least that will spare her the stress of seeing them."

I balked. "They could track her there in the blink of an eye."

"I realize that. But we have to assume they'd leave her unharmed if they intend to bring her back with them," Carlisle reasoned. "We have no other options. There isn't time for anything else."

As if on cue, Bella's sleep-tousled head appeared at the bottom of the stairs, registering bewilderment and anxiety the moment our collective gaze met hers. "Um, am I interrupting anything?"

"Bella, go back upstairs and change. I'm taking you to Charlie's. I'll explain on the way," I ordered with stony authority.

Bella had taken the news far better than I'd estimated she would. Despite alarm being plainly visible on her features, she seemed to making a conscious effort to minimize her visceral stress reaction. Whether it was for my sake, her own, or the baby's, I couldn't care less as long as I could rely on her unflinching cooperation every step of the way. From this point on, none of us could afford the slightest misstep.

Her only concern had been what to tell Charlie, which she expressed halfway through our commute. "We were just over there for lunch yesterday. It's weird that I'm coming back today, especially without you."

My mind raced for a plausible explanation. When in doubt, use the pregnancy as an excuse. "Tell him we're repainting and you can't be around the fumes."

"And we forgot to mention this yesterday?"

"Say it was Alice's idea. Super spontaneous this morning." To be honest, whatever she chose to say was of little consequence to me. She could tell him a meteor had destroyed our house if she preferred. All that mattered was safely hiding her before they came. I scarcely gave it another thought after dropping her off at the curb, flying back home with single-minded, ferocious intent: to confront the vermin drawing inexorably closer to my home by the minute.

Back home, few words were uttered during the solemn watch we held over the clock. Its black hands clicked on with terrible precision, refusing to hasten our vigil by even the smallest second. I lost count of all the apprehensive stares I'd given and received. Not even during the newborn attacks last spring were we plagued by such dry fear. It was because something even more vulnerable than Bella was endangered now, something infinitely more helpless, utterly defenseless before the capricious mercy of the world. Something profoundly irreplaceable – our own flesh and blood. If I was prepared to fight before, my determination now surged to sheer indestructibility.

We all heard their approaching steps at once. With a final glance around the room, Carlisle led us toward the front door, appearing as mourners in a funeral procession. Anyone who saw our faces then would have surely perceived it as such. Seven pairs of firmly planted feet stood ready to face what lurked beyond the door.

Then, with an influx of unnaturally chilled air, it was open. Jane's disconcerting stare swept over us defiantly, her brother lingering a step behind. "We didn't even knock," she declared flatly, withdrawing her hood as she took the liberty to step inside. "You must have known we were coming." Her red eyes lingered maliciously on Alice.

"We did," Carlisle affirmed while shutting the door. "Alice foresaw your arrival. What we don't know is what brings you here."

"Don't feign ignorance with us. You honestly expect us to believe you can't surmise our intentions?" Another chill stirred the air as she stalked around me, hands clasped behind her back. "I assumed you were all smarter than that."

"We're smart enough to know you didn't come just to insult us," I challenged.

She halted her stride to fix me with an unblinking stare. My eyes narrowed at the impudent smirk she offered. "Sadly, that is true. Ironic that you should be the one to point that out."

"If you don't mind, Jane, we really would appreciate a straightforward explanation. We may be immortal, but we do still value our time," Carlisle appealed.

"Very well," she snapped us all a petulant look and resumed her pacing. "Aro sent us to deliver a formal request. All of you have been summoned to Volterra for a private audience. There is to be no delay; you will depart within twenty-four hours." Pausing, she turned in my direction again. "And you will bring the human as well."

From the torrent of shocked thoughts that suddenly invaded my mind, I concluded this had come as a shock to everyone else as well. We'd expected Jane to order myself and Bella to Italy, but the entire family? It didn't make any sense. Bella's humanity – or lack thereof – was technically my sole responsibility, since I alone had pledged to change her. What need did Aro have to speak with the others? I was uncomfortable with the notion that our deductions had somehow missed the mark of the Volturi's grand scheme.

Quickly assessing everyone's startled expressions, Carlisle adjusted his posture slightly. "If you don't mind me saying, that is a rather unusual request. Are you at liberty to share Aro's reasons for summoning our entire family?"

Jane snorted, presumably at his use of the word 'family.' "What little incentive you would have to fulfill your travels if I were to tell you. Intrigue is such a delightful motivator. It certainly sustains _our_ livelihood," she said with sinister undertones; I grimaced at the implication.

"Now, as there appear to be no further objections, there is one final matter. We must see the human before leaving. Aro specifically ordered it." Her visage was infuriatingly arrogant as she looked once more at my glowering face.

"I'm afraid Bella is out of town at the moment," Carlisle said smoothly, raising a hand. "She's visiting her mother in Florida and won't return until Thursday. Surely you can grant us an extension on the flight deadline." Palms spread apart now, his appeal was disarmingly earnest.

Jane's nose tilted upward, judging Carlisle's sincerity with an exacting eye. Though I held my breath, I knew there was no other being with a more impressive ability to convincingly deceive than him. Our job was to lend credibility to his façade by not interfering. That meant remaining immobile and expressionless for whatever length of time proved necessary.

Thankfully, that time proved not to be so long as it could have been. Jane's speech had turned almost apathetic now. "We will inform Aro of the circumstances. So long as you promise to leave immediately upon her return, he should be amenable. However, he'll expect us to have at least walked through the house, wouldn't you say?"

"Of course," Carlisle extended his arm to indicate his willingness. "If you feel it will complete your visit."

"I do," Jane replied imperiously, resting her hand on the banister before proceeding upstairs with Alec in tow.

Nobody dared converse while they remained in the house, but the nonverbal cues being transmitted were sparking enough to light a fire. I didn't even attempt to filter their thoughts, jumbled and emotional as they were. The few wavelengths I did permit were from Carlisle. _I know their motives can never be pure, but maybe it's not what we originally thought_. _If Bella isn't being singled out, there's a chance she'll be in less danger. We might even be able to keep the baby a secret._ I vowed to suspend judgment on these musings until we could all speak again.

At last, Jane and Alec completed their tour and drifted back down the stairs. Eager as I was for them to leave, I nearly missed Jane's new expression. Arrogance had always been her default, but it seemed even more heightened than before, if that were even possible. Alice's clairvoyance rang in my ears, describing Jane as smug after sweeping the house. Yet what I was seeing now went beyond her usual superiority. Those cold, almost reptilian eyes belied something else – as if she were keeping a secret.

"Satisfied with your tour?" Carlisle inquired with a charming smile.

Jane reciprocated with a smile full of guile. "Indeed. And fear not, brother," she addressed Alec for the first time, "That we did not see the human changes nothing. Aro will see them regardless. This coven understands the importance of keeping promises to the Volturi," she raised her hood and approached the door. "We will all be seeing each other again very soon."

They left us frozen in mute shock, staring at the beveled insets in the door, wondering who should be the first to speak. Yet before anyone could take the initiative, an overpowering instinct drove me upstairs and into our bedroom. I had a sinking feeling…

I scanned the furnishings with lightning speed, searching for anything conspicuous, anything remotely out of place. There had to be something. Jane's final expression lingered viciously in my mind, plaguing me with its damned mystery. I knew the answer lay hidden in here. My frenzied search continued. There was the magazine rack, untouched and innocuous. The CD collection held nothing sacred. Neither did our bookshelves…

Books. Bella had been reading one when she fell asleep the night before. I seemed to recall her stuffing it under her pillow. Trepidation slowed my movements as I neared her side of the bed. Instinct told me what I'd find, but I had to verify it with my own eyes. Lifting up the edge of pillowcase, I slipped my other hand underneath, fingertips immediately encountering the cold, smooth feel of a paperback.

The title confirmed my worst fears: _The Pregnancy Bible_.

**Next update: Monday. Enjoy the weekend!**


	11. Chapter 11: Arrival

**CHAPTER 11 – Arrival**

**Edward**

The ocean was a fearsome sight to behold from our vantage in the sky. Waves wove together seamlessly, rippling across the sapphire skin in silent rhythm. Sailing far above this harrowing expanse, there were times when we seemed to be motionless, precariously suspended in time and space – as if the lightest flap of a bird's wing might tip our balance and send us spiraling down, never to rise above the murky depths again. These were the apparitions that haunted my troubled mind as we soared across the Atlantic on the heels of a blood-red sunset.

Bella had drifted into a fitful sleep at my side, for which I could only be grateful. The fewer waking hours she had to ponder our fate, the better. I could tell she was nearing her emotional limit during our final strategy session last night.

"Edward, Alice, Bella and I are all familiar with the layout of the Volturi's chamber," Carlisle had been saying. "Our main objective will be to shield Bella from all angles, which may be difficult given the room's rotunda shape. I propose that Edward and I stand at front center. Flanking us will be Alice and Esme, respectively. Jasper and Emmett will close the circle in the back."

I nodded, visualizing the defensive perimeter he suggested. "I'm a lot more at ease than last time, simply because our numbers are better matched. But we can't forget we're protecting more than just Bella this time."

Carlisle placed a brave hand on my shoulder. "None of us will forget, son," he said solemnly, causing everyone's heads to involuntarily turn toward Bella, who was curled up in the corner of the couch. She'd been listening in quiet fear to our plan of attack for the past hour.

"Bella, honey, do you understand your role in all of this?" I walked over and squatted down at her eye level. She appeared unsure of herself, so I reiterated her responsibilities. "You are to say nothing unless asked. And whatever you are asked, make certain not to mention the baby. For the sake of credibility, you might even want to trick yourself into believing you're not pregnant."

Alice let out a cynical huff. "If that only worked for the rest of us."

I knew exactly what she meant. Bella may be immune to Aro's visionary powers, but nothing could protect everyone else's thoughts if he insisted on seeing them. A single touch could unravel every last effort to shield Bella. Only in the vampire world were memories more treacherous than the most vicious weapon.

Bella wrapped both arms protectively around her belly and tightened her posture even more. "Won't they smell it anyway? You said yourself that the increased blood volume in my system makes it impossible to miss."

Carlisle responded for me. "Depending on how often they've been exposed to pregnant humans, they may not automatically recognize the difference. And Alice bought you a long leather jacket to wear. We're going to give you several layers and leave as little skin exposed as possible. It's freezing in their chamber as it is, so you shouldn't overheat."

Still distraught, she'd managed a weak nod as a tear streamed down one cheek.

There were two reasons I hadn't told them about the book under Bella's pillow. First, because there was a possibility – however remote – that Jane hadn't seen it. Second, there was already an overabundance of stress surrounding this predicament. If Jane had seen the book and chosen to share her observation with Aro, it was too late to prevent it. If Aro was inclined to search our thoughts for whatever reason, again, there was no avoiding it. Bella was in no less danger whether they already knew her secret or discovered it during our visit. We were committed to providing her the same level of protection either way. And if believing we still held the advantage made for a more confident, focused team, I surely wouldn't be the saboteur. We needed every available edge to win this.

After the first few hours of the flight, I'd ceased torturing myself with all the possible scenarios, deeming this to be a situation best entered with minimal expectations. The few we'd allowed ourselves with Jane and Alec's visit had proven there was only one way to enter Italy: with courage derived from true integrity and character, independent of any strategies or wagers. I suspected that the nascent faith our baby had inspired in me was about to be severely tested; whether it would emerge stronger was the most uncertain aspect of all.

Yet with everything else shrouded in mystery, of one thing there could be no doubt: if any of the Volturi's demands could be reconciled by my death in place of Bella's, I would sacrifice myself in a heartbeat. A heartbeat as rapid as that which had barely reached my ears five months ago and now drummed more audibly each day. The Volturi may possess intimidating skills and endless centuries of power, yet nothing they boasted could ever approximate what it feels to have created another life. Despite all their dominion and control, they would never experience the ultimate source of power on earth: life-giving love.

These were the thoughts in which I cloaked myself as we exited the plane, taking Bella's hand to guide her through the heaving sea of people, taking care not to walk too briskly for her. We plotted a course toward the rental car counters, scarcely glancing at each other, our feet driving us forward as if controlled by some greater force. The crowd blurred into wraiths passing by, comprising no more substance than the stale air we breathed.

Italy slept in full, inky darkness as we traced its veins through the countryside minutes later. Our three-car caravan cut across landscapes draped in cold shadows, each inviting us to gaze into depths where horror surely lurked. I refused to accept their invitation. Affixing my eyes on the smooth blacktop before me, I clutched the steering wheel with an iron grip, vaguely aware of the two pairs of headlights trailing in my rear view mirror. At my side, Bella sat stiffly. She'd been snared by the shadows' allure and was staring off into the void.

Whether it was ten minutes or ten hours that passed before spotting Volterra's soft glow on the horizon, I couldn't tell. An entire week of driving wouldn't have abated my determination. It flared to burning levels now as we passed beneath the city's ancient gates, darting between pools of light every few hundred yards. With grim satisfaction I realized this was exactly how I'd envisioned this event – abandoned streets opening before us like a labyrinthine tomb, dampness clinging to the air, blackness encroaching at every corner. No other greeting befitted our arrival this night.

I led our procession down avenues as obscure as the Volturi's fortress itself, and with one final turn arrived at the bulbous end of an alley. For a moment, I felt my strength waver upon seeing this hauntingly familiar cul-de-sac. The memory of my last visit here was no dimmer than the hues in which the scene was now bathed.

I crushed those recollections almost as quickly as they erupted. Entertaining those thoughts now posed equal danger to Bella as the Volturi. Though it took monumental effort, I subdued them, flicking the ignition off as I clenched my jaw and turned to face Bella.

I was surprised to find considerably more courage in her features than when I'd last seen them. "Are you ready?"

Her intake of breath was slightly uneven, but her words were not. "As long as you're coming with me, I am."

That marked the point of no return. Emerging from our vehicles in near unison, we tread across the cobbled ground, Bella already positioned in the center of the group I led. Our target was a rounded door set several feet into the granite wall. By anyone's assessment, it resembled a servant's exit, belying nothing of the formidable power to which it granted access.

As I suspected, our approach was detected long before reaching the alcove. The door swung open to reveal two hooded figures whose faces were buried in total blackness. One held a strangely colored torch in its gloved hand.

"Cullens?" its counterpart snarled.

"The one and only," I stared into its cowl fearlessly.

Taciturn, the pair moved to flank both sides of the entrance. To my left, I gave Carlisle the faintest of nods, and together we directed the group onward once again. The torch-carrying guard assumed lead position in the corridor, while the other closed the exit before trailing behind us. Through the narrow halls we followed, the only sound that of our footsteps echoing against the polished walls – the same walls that had seen me process toward my own pathetic destruction last year, I thought with another fleeting pang of remorse.

All too soon we stood before the main chamber doors. Extinguishing their torch, our escorts lowered their hoods, threw open the massive frame in tandem, and marched into the den beyond.


	12. Chapter 12: Pacts: Part 1

**CHAPTER 12 – Pacts: Part 1**

**Edward**

Whereas brilliant, natural light filled the court in daylight hours, the evening brought an entirely different atmosphere. The only light now came from two burning pillars on either side of the throne dais. Their orange-yellow flames illuminated little beyond the three thrones between them, yet still sent myriad shadows dancing everywhere. The majestic veneer of day was stripped away at night, plunging the scene into darkness well befitting its tenants' souls.

Into this eerie séance we entered, Bella enclosed safely within our circle. I hadn't turned to look at her since entering the fortress. I uttered one last silent prayer for her as we stepped just inside the pillars' glow, my eyes finding Aro's instantly. I was also keenly aware of Jane, Alec, Felix, and several other guards hovering at the far edges of the light.

"My, my," he shook his head deliberately, taking in the crowd before him with steepled fingers. "How good it is to see your faces again. It's been far too long. Especially for you, Carlisle," he extended a reverent hand toward him. "We haven't had the honor of your company in ages. I believe it's been well over two hundred years." His voice seemed thicker, more ominous as it carried through the darkened bowl surrounding us.

"That sounds accurate," Carlisle said simply.

Shaking his head once again in reminiscence, Aro leaned back in his chair. "Far, far too long. I imagine we have a lot of catching up to do, wouldn't you say?"

"Perhaps," Carlisle delivered the ambiguous answer cheerfully.

"But of course!" Aro laughed with a clap of his hands. "How I've missed your sense of humor. Over two centuries missed between old friends… I hope you won't deny me the indulgence of a few questions. Your life must be filled with so many fascinations, and things have a way of growing rather… mundane around here," he added with a self-deprecating grimace.

Carlisle simply nodded once. Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed the slightest tightening of his facial muscles.

"Delightful! But where to begin? There are so many curiosities to explore. Well, as Edward is by your side, he can be my first muse."

Fate was bearing down on us now like an unmanned locomotive. I focused every last ounce of determination into presenting an unmoving, flat façade to the man who could, at any moment, single-handedly destroy my family and entire reason for living. It was now or never. Whatever happened beyond this point would seal our collective fate forever.

"Now Edward, I trust you've been well since our last encounter?" he began, casually crossing one leg. "No additional crises to tempt you into forfeiting your life?" the faintest sarcasm laced his words, insidiously insulting. He wasn't wasting any time.

"None," I replied.

"That is heartening to hear. We would deeply regret having to exact justice on one as talented and valuable as yourself, even for the sake of… love." The word sounded foreign on his tongue. "I understand that you and Isabella married last year. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"And your wife is well?"

I gauged what lay behind his eyes as best I could without delaying my response. All I found was the typical beguilement. "She is."

"Ah, wonderful news." Graceful and unhurried, he rose from his throne to stand before us. What passed for a playful smile now danced across his features. "And I presume she is the one being hidden from us?"

None of us flinched nor spoke a word. If Aro wanted to see Bella, he would have to forcibly demand it, not insinuate it like that. He contemplated our mute, impassive stance for a moment. I wasn't sure if amusement or suspicion was his dominant expression; the two seemed to be in perpetual coexistence on his face. "Come now, I would dearly like to see Isabella. She is, after all, a member of your family now."

Carlisle saw the opportunity and seized it. "Yes, and that raises a question you have not yet offered to answer, Aro. Why have you summoned our entire family here?"

Elbows bent, palms flat against each other before him, Aro closed the gap between us, the uneven light distorting his features as he approached. "If you would grant me the honor of seeing Bella, I will gladly explain everything."

The look Carlisle and I exchanged was brief but incisive. Both of us knew the futility of defying Aro any further. As painful as it was to admit, we were foolish to have ever entertained the belief that Bella could go unseen throughout our entire session. It was truly inevitable.

"Very well," Carlisle moved reluctantly aside, leaving barely enough room for Aro to pass through. The others remained frozen in place as the Volturi leader infiltrated our shield. I turned to see Bella, expecting to find her trembling in terror, but instead saw her facing Aro with unexpected confidence. She'd gone beyond the charge of locking down her mind and forged an impressively courageous front of her own.

"Isabella," Aro hissed in perverse pleasure, drawing within a foot of her. "You are as beautiful and tempting as ever. Perhaps even more so. But I must confess, your coat does nothing to enhance that beauty." My fists clenched at the sight of his fingers tracing the edge of her collar. "It really does not become you, and it looks so uncomfortable. Surely you would prefer to remove it."

Aro must have known the temporary uncertainty his words would create. No sooner did Bella's eyes shift to mine when he peeled apart her coat zipper in half a second. So unlike his patient, manipulative nature was this move that it left us speechless, astounded by the aggressive turn of events. All we could do was stare at the edges of fabric that had been so mercilessly parted. My mind screamed at the violation, the overt breach of decorum that was as unprecedented as it was offensive.

Then, exuding his usual demeanor once again, Aro drew his hands painstakingly closer to the inch-wide rift, savoring the anticipation as only he could. I wanted to shut my eyes, to deny this was happening as I stood helplessly by. I should be enraged now, I realized. I should be throwing myself on Aro with reckless, suicidal abandon, disregarding all the consequences for the sake of Bella's honor. Yet something restrained me – something unfamiliar, but not entirely unwelcome. It reigned in my anger and soothed it with the promise of peaceful resolution. A strange sensation passed through me as I recognized it was faith.

It arrived not a moment too soon. With ceremonious zeal, Aro flung open the coat, holding the edges as if to provide himself a private viewing. For what felt like an eternity, he gave no response, no indication whatsoever of his thoughts.

When at last he spoke, it was with an incredulous whisper. "Astonishing… had I not seen it myself, I would have never believed it." Moving cautiously, he removed the coat from her shoulders in solemn awe, draping it over one arm before facing Carlisle and me. His expression was inscrutable.

"It seems I owe you an apology, Jane," he called out into the gloom. "I was wrong to have doubted you. But then, one can hardly fault my skepticism. Who ever imagined that one such as us could spawn with a human?" he fixed me with piercing, wondering eyes. "So you, Edward, are to become a father in your immortal state. How truly fascinating. Never in over a millennium have we witnessed such a marvel." He seemed to be looking at me as if for the first time. "It must have been no less shocking for you, I suppose."

Though I refrained from attacking him, I drew the line at accepting his sympathy. "Don't pretend to understand us, Aro. All you care about is eliminating the threat this child poses."

Aro appeared mortified. "How quickly you judge my intentions. To even consider harming this… miracle, for lack of a better term, would be unconscionable."

What he did next nearly destroyed my last shred of willpower. Turning back to face Bella, he placed a cold, pale hand on the swell of her belly. The world's most treacherous being was touching my wife, and the fragile tissue separating our baby from that monster may as well have been paper. Carlisle sensed my torment and secured my arm before I did something I'd regret.

"Simply incredible," he murmured. Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, he suddenly paused to tilt his head. "Am I hearing this correctly? Is that a… heartbeat?"

"Yes, that's exactly what you're hearing. The child inherited predominantly human genes from Bella," Carlisle affirmed, still holding me in place.

"Oh, this is a rare and precious gift indeed," Aro reiterated his awe once again. "How unfortunate it would be if any harm were to befall it."

"And we're not supposed to take that as a threat?" I chafed.

I'd expected yet another hollow, placating response, but he actually appeared to be weighing his options first. His face remained unreadable as he pivoted away from Bella and strode back toward the throne, discarding Bella's coat at our feet before resuming his place of honor.

"That depends," he said slowly. "As I will explain shortly, we find ourselves in the midst of a rather auspicious situation… one that stands to benefit both parties, if both prove reasonable."

I should have known. Blackmail was the Volturi's preferred means of negotiation, and the higher the stakes, the likelier its involvement. Likewise, the task they levied was always proportional to the benefit; whatever they asked in exchange for Bella and the baby's lives would be nothing short of monumental.

"We're listening," Carlisle said.

"Jane, would you do the honors? Consider it recompense for my earlier skepticism."

"Gladly," Jane deadpanned, stepping in from the fringes. She appeared more austere than ever. "Are you aware of the recent developments in the Yukon Territories?"

I glanced at Carlisle, whose puzzled expression matched my own. "No," I said hesitantly.

"For the past several months, we have been receiving reports of newborn activity there. It was relatively minor at first, nothing worth our serious attention. But the incidents are becoming intolerably conspicuous. Last month, the entire settlement known as Old Crow was annihilated. Murders are occurring by the dozens across the area."

"Do you know who is behind this?" Carlisle asked.

"No… a matter which you will assist us in exposing."

Stunned silence hung between us for a minute. With alarming clarity, I understood what was being asked of us. It was no less than I'd expected. "Why us? Why not enlist the Denali clan, who live literally next door to the Yukon?"

Aro chuckled softly. "Because, Edward, we need an expeditious resolution. No one will argue that the Denalis present a geographically appealing choice. But in so crucial a matter, I based my decision on something less prosaic."

"What might that be?"

"Motivation, naturally. I gauged who had greater reason to comply. Who owes a debt that stands to be repaid. Who," he looked deliberately at Bella, "risks more by declining."

"I see," I growled. "You certainly have a flair for negotiation."

"So I've been told. But now is not the time for compliments. We have an agreement to discuss. Please continue, Jane."

"The terms of our contract are simple and straightforward. You will find the newborns, destroy them all, and lastly bring their creator to us – alive. If you fail to fulfill any of these tasks, sanctions will be imposed."

I scowled. "And by sanctions, you mean…"

"Edward," Aro smiled condescendingly, "Our offer is quite generous when you think about it. Considering you arrived here today with your wife who is not yet transformed, _and_ who is gestating a child which, in all honesty, no one can vouch for its innocuous nature. These are serious concerns. Were it any other family, this bargain would have never even been offered. As it is, my colleagues," he gestured toward Marcus and Caius at his sides, "were vehemently opposed to this compromise. It took no small effort to gain their support."

"Forgive my rudeness if I don't thank you."

"You are pardoned. Gratitude was not one of the provisions Jane cited. So long as you understand the terms, along with their full import, we are satisfied." His eyes smiled with sinister complacency. "Are there any further questions?"

"Just one," Carlisle spoke. "How much time are we being given to complete these tasks?"

Aro inclined his head thoughtfully. "I am confident you grasp the urgency of the situation. That being said, a thorough job is equally imperative. Given the unknown scale of the problem, it would be fanciful to impose a deadline, yet there is the need for accountability as well…"

Clearly growing impatient with Aro's deliberation, Marcus interrupted. "Enough hedging, Aro. Allow them six months."

"Six months?" Aro turned to him, pondering the suggestion. "If you feel that is adequate."

"It is."

"Well then, it's settled. We will send for you again in six months. Whatever progress you have made will be evaluated then. I believe that covers everything. You are free to go." Extending his hands outward, he signaled the guards to flank us before heading out. "As much as I'd love to extend our visit, I strongly suggest you return home soon. Time is a resource almost as precious as the gift we have just extended to you."


	13. Chapter 13: Options

**CHAPTER 13 – Options**

**Bella**

The flight home had been miserable. Edward's angst roiled throughout its entirety; everyone else's was evident too from the slightest sideways glance. The Cullens managed stress by formulating plans and didn't manage well with their delay. By the time we landed, he was fuming so much that I half expected him to radiate heat. That, of course, didn't happen, but the strategy session we later held in our house did nearly reach volcanic intensity.

"They're nothing but cowards!" Edward shouted, pacing with sharp movements. "They send us to do their dirty work and claim they're doing _us_ a favor! How stupid do they think we are?"

"That's how they operate – manipulation, extortion, and above all, fear," Alice observed from her seat beside me. "Patronizing is their favorite pastime. Much like a cat plays with its food."

Edward sneered even more. "I don't care how predictable their nature is, that doesn't mean I – we – have to cooperate."

Across the room, Carlisle's elbows were planted on his knees, hands brushing his face in angst. "Son, as much as I hate to say it, we don't appear to have a choice."

Glaring at his father, Edward's fury threatened to tear the whole house down. He seethed at the man as he growled, "Leave it to someone who used to be one of _them_ to say that."

That snapped Carlisle to attention. Dropping his hands, he returned Edward's glare with an unflinching expression of his own. "I'm going to dismiss that comment as a momentary lapse of judgment caused by stress. Turning against each other will destroy us just as surely as the Volturi would. Now, if it's all right with everyone, I'd like to share my plan on keeping all of us alive."

Emmett snorted to himself, so faintly I almost missed it. "You know what I mean, Emmett," Carlisle admonished. "And now is not the time for humor."

"Sorry," Emmett mumbled.

"So what did you have in mind?" I urged, shifting my weight on the couch cushion. The baby was starting to feel heavier each day. It was with increasing difficulty that I now found comfortable sitting and sleeping positions, but I didn't want to worry Edward about it, considering there were far more important matters.

"First and foremost, your safety needs to be accounted for," he looked intently at me before sweeping the room. "Does anyone have any suggestions?"

Esme shrugged, looking hopelessly into space. "She can't stay with her father or anywhere in Forks. It's the first place the Volturi would look if they grew restless or impatient."

"And she can't come with us, obviously," Rosalie said. "I may not be an expert on births, vampire or otherwise, but the northern Canadian wilderness probably isn't ideal for either."

"We could rent her a hotel room," Jasper added. "She could stay there, one of us could check in on her each day…" it was evident as he trailed off that he knew it wasn't a viable solution.

"So where does that leave us?" Carlisle asked thoughtfully. "She can't stay here, and she can't come with us. Can any of you think of another place, perhaps one not too far away, that might grant Bella the protection she needs?" He seemed to be heavily implying that he had such a place in mind, yet I was at a loss as to what it could be. Maybe it was just another case of "baby brain" flaring up again.

The mystery was solved thanks to what only Edward could hear. His glare returned, more searing than ever. "No. Absolutely not."

"Are you saying you would rather leave Bella unprotected here? Or that we should drag her, six months pregnant, all the way to Old Crow?" Carlisle asked him incredulously, knowing full well what his answer would be.

Edward shook his head obstinately. "No, but there has to be another way. This can't be the best we can think of."

"Um, sorry to interrupt, but what is it you're opposed to?" Alice interjected. "You tend to forget that not all of us can read minds."

"Carlisle thinks Bella's best chances are with wild animals," he grunted.

Alice wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Wild animals? What?"

Realization finally hit me. "He means the reservation – the wolves," I said absently.

"And he thinks it's a better option than the other two. I do believe our dear father has officially lost his mind," Edward spat, defying any of us to censor him.

I stared at him for a minute. Who was he to declare his own father mad, much less dismiss a viable option without letting me weigh in? If ever I had the right to participate in a major Cullen family decision, it was now. "Edward, why is it such an insane idea? I feel kind of stupid for not thinking of it before."

"You've got to be joking," his voice raised an octave. "I've just gotten comfortable with you visiting them. _Visiting_. For a few hours every month. As a normal human. Now you propose to stay with them indefinitely, while pregnant with their mortal enemy's child. Yes, I'm a fool for not suggesting it earlier." His sarcasm was dripping with disdain.

As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. I still cringed recalling Jacob's reaction from months ago. The hardness of his eyes, the tension that repelled him from the room, the anguish, disgust, and anger I felt coursing through his veins – it all stung like it was yesterday. He'd been unable to handle the situation when it was nothing more than a heartbeat, a sound; imagine his tolerance level now that it visibly protruded from me. Aside from being a poor choice for my safety, staying at the reservation might be considered cruel as well.

When I didn't rejoin Edward's sarcastic comment, he turned back to Carlisle. "I'll say it again, this absolutely can't be the solution."

Before Carlisle had a chance to respond, however, Alice chimed in. "Bella, what about your mother and stepfather in Florida?"

Now I really did feel stupid. How had we all overlooked Renee and Phil, tucked away in Floridian suburbia and probably well off the Volturi's radar? "Um, yeah… that could actually work," I said slowly, amazed at our lack of common sense.

"They haven't seen you in what, four or five months?" she continued with increased eagerness. "I'm sure they'd love to have you visit again, especially considering they don't know about the bun in the oven yet."

I blushed. It was true, I hadn't told Renee about the baby. Not because Edward had discouraged or forbidden it – we had, after all, revealed it to Charlie – but because I hadn't yet devised the best way to tell her. With Charlie, it was only a matter of mustering the courage to face him and remove my coat. But with Renee, I felt obliged to deliver the news with more flair, with romantic sensibility or something poetic. When it was between mother and daughter, the context was different.

Well, whether I liked it or not, this was my vehicle to romantic flair. I'd have to work out the details during the plane ride. Looking hesitantly to Edward, I expected to find him glaring fiercely, intent on rejecting every scenario just for spite. Yet I was pleased to see his expression was more thoughtful than anything else. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, he shifted his eyes to me.

"Call them."

"O-okay," his immediate consent startled me. "When should I tell them I'll be there?"

For that answer, he deferred to Carlisle, who glanced briefly around the room. "There's no time to waste. Who knows if six months will be enough?"

Edward nodded once. "You're going tomorrow. Someone book her a ticket."

"I will," Alice volunteered without a moment's hesitation. She vanished before I could even thank her. Next thing I knew, Esme placed the cordless phone in my right hand. I dialed the numbers, acutely aware of everyone's eyes on me. An uncomfortable silence ensued as I waited for the ringing to be interrupted by my mother's voice.

It finally was, but not how I'd hoped. The answering machine greeted me with feckless, metallic cheer: _"Hi, you've reached Renee and Phil… well, not really, because we're on the road for two months to follow Phil's team. Wish us luck, we'll be back in early April!"_

I was too stunned to press the red "end" button. Face frozen and mind numb with denial, I barely heard the beep that prompted me to speak words I couldn't find. How could I, when our final hope had just been shattered? How could I possibly find the will to confess that my fate was effectively sealed?

I didn't have to. With his jaw grimly set, Edward snatched the receiver from me in one swift motion. His grip crumpled the plastic like a tin can. Judging by the stricken looks surrounding me, I knew he hadn't been the only one to overhear Renee's recording.

There was nothing for me to do but await their judgment now; I wondered who would respond first.

Carlisle did. "Alice? Cancel that ticket," he called out. "Give Bella your cell phone, Edward. She has one more call to make."

Edward's loathing was palpable as he flung the cell phone onto my lap. It lingered long after he bolted from the room, haunting me as I stared at the phone. He'd always somehow been able to affect me more when he wasn't present. It never grew any less unnerving. Out of the corner of my eye, Alice appeared in the doorway.

"I leave the room for two minutes, and then I see Edward storm out like he's just heard Victoria is still alive… what on earth happened?" Her eyes flashed incredulously from face to face, but we were all looking at the floor. Torn between indignation and concern, she switched to the latter. "Bella, please tell me everything's okay with your parents?"

Carlisle rose to face her. "They're fine, but there's one problem… they aren't home, and won't be for another two months."

"What? Where are they?"

"Anywhere, USA," Emmett crossed his arms.

"Phil's baseball team is touring, apparently," Carlisle clarified. "They'll be in a different city every other day. It would be exhausting, if not impossible, for Bella to follow them around."

Alarm crept into Alice's voice. "Then where is she supposed to go?"

Carlisle kept his voice even. "Where I originally suggested."

I felt her eyes on me now, intensely fascinated. "But Edward thinks that's worse than bringing her with us," she whispered, as if afraid he would overhear our mutinous thoughts. In all likelihood he was a hundred miles away by now, uprooting trees to vent his frustration.

"Exactly – _Edward_ thinks that. But do you?"

That snapped me out of my daze. Carlisle had just stepped into dangerous, unprecedented territory. To use his patriarchal influence over Edward's spousal authority was truly scandalous. The repercussions could tear the entire family apart. Yet I sensed he had weighed the risks and knew what he was doing – and he appeared equally confident of Alice's response.

She, too, was weighing the situation carefully, but scanning the room seemed to settle the matter. "I think anything's safer than Old Crow," she threw me a wink.


	14. Chapter 14: Pacts: Part 2

**CHAPTER 14 – Pacts: Part 2**

**Edward**

Dusk was sinking into the boughs of endless pine trees, blending them together with a dark paintbrush as we drove beneath them, my mouth twisting in bitter irony. Twice in one week now, I found myself chauffeuring Bella directly into a snake pit. Much more of this and it might start to feel routine.

Not that I wasn't accustomed to the symbiosis Bella shared with danger. But there was a slight difference between intervening with danger and consciously surrendering her to it. If I dwelled on it too much, it might actually make me ill.

It would help tremendously if I could gauge her reaction, but she was more unreadable than ever. She'd been oddly mute, Alice said, since her phone call with the dog, which I was infinitely grateful to have missed. Everyone spared me the details, while Carlisle informed me of the end result: an offer to discuss Bella's asylum this evening at the treaty line.

Despite my disgust, I was admittedly curious how she'd negotiated that. Her blank face showed no traces of crying or anguish. Could it really have been a painless experience? Maybe – and I ceded this only with extreme reluctance – I had misjudged the wolves. Maybe there was a chance, however miniscule, that Jacob could convince them that Bella was worth protecting in spite of what grew inside her. Though it had taken a brief hiatus, faith was attempting a comeback.

Unfortunately, its resurgence collapsed once we reached our destination. Through the murky, muddy haze of the twilit forest, I saw several human forms pacing, shifting restlessly as they tracked our approach. They were no less anxious than we were.

"Stay in the car," I ordered flatly. "They don't need to see you in order to discuss this. If and when we reach an agreement," the words tasted like total betrayal, "we'll bring you out. Not a moment sooner. Understand?"

She nodded without meeting my gaze, though not because of deception or evasion. She was… tranquil, her eyes clear of all distress. Her hands lay gently clasped at the base of her rounded belly. She looked as if she'd just finished listening to a meditation CD. With a twinge of jealousy I stepped out into the damp night air.

The others joined me in planting ourselves three feet behind the invisible threshold. Almost immediately, five bare-chested men and a tank top-clad woman materialized from the mist with measured strides. I identified Jacob front and center, half a step behind Sam. Neither appeared more cheerful than the other.

Sam regarded us suspiciously. "Don't you think it's strange that the subject of our meeting isn't here?"

"Bella is here, she's in the car," I didn't conceal my irritation.

Jacob craned his neck forward to verify my claim. Yet his thoughts revealed he cared little of disproving me; he was far more concerned with relieving his own agitation. Part of me hoped he couldn't see her, if only for the disappointment.

"I think I see her," he reported with squinted eyes. _Wish I could tell if she's okay, or if that demon baby is eating her alive._

I'd come prepared for thoughts like that, but it wasn't without effort that I responded calmly. "She's perfectly fine. Carlisle has been monitoring her carefully."

_Great. One demon watching another. That's incredibly reassuring._

Sam continued before I could unleash my temper. "Jacob tells me you're fairly desperate. You must be if you're willing to hand Bella over in such a vulnerable state."

"You have no idea," I mumbled under my breath.

"As I understand it, you've been drafted to moderate some sort of uprising at the North Pole?"

"Northwestern Canada," I corrected. Leave it to Jacob to exaggerate and embellish.

"You can't bring Bella since you don't know how long it will take to diffuse the problem." He was no longer inquiring but inferring. "That, and the other obvious reason."

Jacob quivered slightly as he snorted. I concentrated on blocking his thoughts.

"And you would ask us to harbor her until you return."

"You've got it."

Shifting his posture to convey his position of power, Sam nodded to himself. His eyes were cruelly calculating. "What do we possibly have to gain from this?"

Their selfishness astounded me, if for no other reason than being exposed so overtly, so shamelessly. It was then that I realized how much optimistic faith I'd really been hiding.

"Life isn't merely a series of equitable business deals," Carlisle advised. "But you might consider this a fair exchange for resetting Jacob's entire skeleton last spring."

I raised an eyebrow. When the Volturi weren't involved, Carlisle could be a mean negotiator. Jacob, meanwhile, crossed his arms as much from the unpleasant memory as the advantage it gave us.

"We might," Sam replied coolly. "If we could be certain the child is harmless."

Carlisle was ready yet again. "Jacob detected Bella's pregnancy by smell. Edward, however, detected it by sound."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, unimpressed.

"The baby has a heartbeat. It's far more human than vampire."

He did an admirable job of subduing his surprise, but the news clearly affected Sam. A solid minute passed, during which I tuned out his thoughts as well. Knowing them did nothing to further our cause, and it only served to distract. I decided my mental efforts were better spent praying, if I was qualified to do so. It couldn't hurt in any case.

Having weighed this information to his satisfaction, Sam unclenched his jaw while casting a sideways glance at Jacob, who seemed conflicted and uncertain. "That is significant. But as far as we're concerned, nothing constitutes a full guarantee. Surely you understand."

It was my turn to deliver sound logic. "I understand that an infant is the most innocent creature on the planet, regardless of its species. A young grizzly bear is as playful as a puppy. Even a baby alligator is sweet and docile for a time."

Jacob grew increasingly unsettled at Sam's side, rapidly looking between our faces to judge who was winning. It may have been premature to congratulate myself, but that didn't stop me from enjoying Sam's flustered expression. Yet rather than gloating, I sweetened the deal. "How's this – if the baby exhibits any sign of aggression, even the slightest hint, call me and I'll return in less than eight hours. I'd rather our mission be interrupted than our trust – or your lives – destroyed."

Though it was his duty to regard any offer from us with heavy skepticism and caution, I knew Sam was nothing if not reasonable. He had to be, or his authority as Alpha wouldn't be tolerated, much less respected to the degree it was. As I held his gaze, I saw the layers of mistrust begin to fall, until nothing remained but proud resignation.

"Your offer is fair. We will hold you to it."

Jacob looked as if he'd just been evicted from his own home. "Are you saying we'll take her in?" he seemed aghast at even having to ask.

"Yes. Unless you'd prefer Dr. Cullen undid his work," Sam threatened.

"I'm surprised, Jacob. I thought you'd be her biggest advocate. You'd sooner pass up a garage full of engines than time with her," the woman next to Jacob provoked.

Despite his youthful charm, Jacob could glare like an eagle. "Shut up, Leah. Things are… different now."

While she and Jacob exchanged their mutual distaste for each other, Sam focused on the final details. "I presume we're taking her now?" he looked to me for verification.

I could only nod.

"Wait just a minute and we'll bring her over. Her luggage is in the trunk," Carlisle deferred graciously. As we all retreated to the Volvo, I couldn't tell whether my stupefaction was caused by Bella's imminent departure or the ease with which we'd procured it. It was probably both.

The pack's eyes were burning a hole into my back as I stooped to open the passenger door. It burned even stronger as I extended my left arm to assist her out of her seat, and when her unsteady feet hit on the loose gravel. My frame was blocking hers until Alice passed me her suitcase, at which point I pivoted to guide her toward her intensely curious saviors.

_She's so swollen… she's almost waddling_, Jacob's thoughts pierced my defenses, acute as they were. _I can't believe she'll be staying with me. This couldn't get any more awkward. _

"Imagine how it feels for me," I retorted.

When we were within ten feet of the boundary line, I stopped to face her. There would be no better moment to express our parting sentiments. Setting her bag on the ground, I knelt reverently before her, cupping her belly in my hands.

"Daddy loves you," I closed my eyes as I kissed it gently. "I promise I'll come back. You'll be my motivation every day I'm gone." Standing slowly, reluctantly, my hands lingered on her stomach as I studied her face. "And you. Both of you," I pressed my mouth against hers painfully, more distraught than I'd expected to be. The reality of our heart-wrenching separation was suddenly all too present. She swallowed as tears clouded her chocolate eyes.

Jacob's sickened reaction rang inside my head, but I was too enraptured to care. With a final caress of her stomach, I thrust her suitcase toward Sam, whose mind seemed elsewhere as he accepted it. His thoughts revealed that his wife Emily was newly pregnant as well.

"We'll do our best to take care of her," his voice was thick. Though there was still some measure of guarded reserve in his eyes, compassion softened it marginally.

"Please do," I whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead before pulling away from her. In that instant, all the trials of my immortal life flashed before my eyes. My depraved existence as a newborn. The deep, prolonged solitude that plagued me for decades despite my family's presence. Inflicting unspeakable pain on Bella by abandoning her. Seeking solace in eternal destruction and bringing myself within inches of it. And Victoria's final stand, into which I'd plunged a lifetime of wild fury.

All these I would collectively relive if it meant keeping Bella with me now. Yet as she tentatively crossed the uneven ground, Sam intercepted her steps with steadying arms, unwittingly symbolizing the transfer of responsibility. She could find no other place, no better sanctuary. No amount of pining or denial would change that. She was theirs now.

Her own submission was visible in the final, lingering glance she gave me, hands clutching the baby as she followed her protectors into the forest.


	15. Chapter 15: Aslyum: Part 1

**I was going to wait until tomorrow to update, but I decided to be generous. Who loves ya?**

**CHAPTER 15 – Asylum: Part 1**

**Jacob**

**(For simplicity's sake, Jacob isn't the true Alpha.)**

Awkward didn't remotely describe the situation – and it would be off to a running start the moment we got home. Billy knew of Bella's pregnancy, but I hadn't shared with him the possibility of her being our guest. I never thought it would actually happen. Cynical as I was, I indirectly blamed Emily. Her pregnancy must have influenced Sam's decision, subconsciously or otherwise. He probably wasn't even aware of the effect. But regardless of his motivation, he'd delivered the shock of a lifetime, and I was about to do the same to Billy.

At least the anticipation was short-lived. He was seated at the kitchen table when we walked in, newspaper spread out before him as he lowered a beer bottle from his lips. One look at Bella and the bottle crashed to the floor.

The last thing I needed was for him to have a heart attack. "Dad, take a deep breath. Just count to ten. When you get some color back, I'll explain." He was rapidly approaching Bella's end of the skin tone spectrum.

"Wh-what is she doing here?" he croaked, knuckles white against the armrests.

I sighed. "It's a long story. It was Sam's idea, we have no choice."

Through his disoriented haze, Billy's eyes came to rest on Bella's abdomen. Unmitigated terror washed over him as he began to hyperventilate. "How l-long is she staying?"

I gritted my teeth, empathizing all too well with his panic. Anyone in their right mind saw the absurdity of Sam's edict. "I don't know," I lowered my voice. "She's here until the Cullens finish some crazy mission. Could be next week, could be next year."

"I don't believe it. What would possess Sam to…" his astonished whisper faded away.

"Like I said, it's a long story. One I'll tell you in the morning. For now, you'll have to excuse us. Bella's tired and needs to sleep." At least, that was my excuse to end this awful encounter.

Had Billy's legs been functional, he would've bolted before we moved another inch. Yet he was trapped, forced to endure Bella's passing within four feet of him, recoiling as much as his chair allowed. I wished more than ever that I could remove this maddening tension. But it wasn't leaving anytime soon, and I lacked any authority to change that.

I avoided Bella's face while instructing her where to find clean towels and other basic necessities. I felt – and sounded – like a prison warden; our jobs didn't feel much different. I was in charge of supervising someone who posed extreme danger to the community. I couldn't let her out of my sight. And her detention period was ambiguous, her parole uncertain. Adding insult to injury was my lack of compensation.

Our tour ended at the study next to my room. In the corner was a plaid pull-out sofa with threadbare cushions and a few mystery stains; an unbidden wave of remorse hit me when I saw it. Regardless of her husband's identity, no pregnant woman deserved to sleep on that. I'd have to scour Craigslist tomorrow for a twin mattress and frame.

"There are extra blankets in the hall closet," I dropped her suitcase as far away from her as I could without looking ridiculous. She was sitting sideways on the arm of the couch, eyes roaming the cramped space furtively. A long, ungainly minute passed before I realized that ugly couch wasn't going to pull itself out, and she was in no condition to do it herself.

Defeated, I dragged my feet across the rust-red carpet, angry that my best laid plans to avoid her were being thwarted already. Then again, who was I kidding? How much longer could I have succeeded when she's staying in my own house, eating our food, and separated from me by one thin wall? Wishful thinking, if not grossly delusional.

She maintained her distance while I yanked out the folding frame, but her scent was already filling the room. It was the same as before except more pungent. Her hormones had to be reaching their peak levels. I resisted the urge to crinkle my nose. While it wasn't an entirely offensive smell, it would definitely take some getting used to, for reasons far beyond it being new to our house.

"There," I flattened the lumpy mattress and ducked back under the door. "Um… goodnight."

I dared to meet her eyes for a fraction of a second, immediately regretting it upon seeing their melancholy tint. "Goodnight Jake." Her voice cracked slightly, whether from dryness or distress I couldn't tell. "It may not help anything, but I can't say how grateful I am. Thank you."

Shutting the door behind me was hard enough. Shutting my eyes in a vain attempt to fall asleep was infinitely harder. I realized the source of my agitation wasn't curled up in the next room. I could continue misdirecting my anger toward Sam, but I was tired of scapegoats. It seemed I'd finally reached a point where I preferred brutal honesty to convenient half-truths. Deceiving myself just wasn't working anymore.

There were two layers to my frustration. First – and there was no question of its primacy – was the baby itself, but not in a dangerous sense. That was simply the classic, predictable reaction I'd hid behind. My objection was unmistakably personal. Yet nothing in the world could make me confess it out loud: I wished, more passionately than words could describe, that the baby nourished by Bella's warm and tender body was mine. That she existed in this house as my wife instead of a refugee. The thought of anyone else's child occupying her womb was obscene. That its father happened to be a vampire was just icing on the cake.

Secondly, the parallels between this situation and last year's weren't lost on me. Edward had once again left Bella under the premise of keeping her safe. She had no more guarantee of his return now than she did then. The context might be different, but the end result was potentially the same: a depressed, inconsolable Bella who could never be made whole again. Her life would carry on in a semi-catatonic state, joyless until her last breath. How the child entered the equation was too complicated to even say.

Bella's asylum revealed nothing new. I still resented Edward for what he was, what he'd stolen from me, and for jeopardizing Bella's future happiness. Would punishing Bella really change that? Isolating and avoiding her wouldn't resolve anything. It was just a coping mechanism that would do more harm than good for both of us.

Whether it was defeatism or realism I'd finally embraced, I didn't know and didn't care. I only knew it was three A.M. when I finally drifted into a hazy, dreamless sleep and woke at ten thirty. My stomach grumbled angrily as I shuffled into the kitchen. There I discovered Bella reading yesterday's paper where Billy had left it last night, her thin robe unbelted with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

Leaning against the counter, I crossed my arms and released a long breath. "How'd you sleep?"

She swallowed uncertainly before answering. "Um, my lower back hurts a little, but it was bothering me before," she hedged.

"I'm getting you a new bed today, don't worry."

She looked half mortified. "You don't have to do that, I'm sure I'll get used to it." Was there no way to prevent a self-sacrificing response from this girl? Even if she were immolated, she'd insist on using a bucket of water for a houseplant rather than her own body. Some might consider it a bizarre form of masochism.

"Bella, as long as you're in our house, you have to follow our rules. And the rule is that guests, especially long-term ones with… special needs, sleep on a bed with a real mattress. Don't argue." Apparently I'd managed to silence her objections, because she dropped her eyes and bit self-consciously into a muffin. "Did you get enough for breakfast?"

"Mm-hm," she nodded while chewing.

My concern didn't end with food. "Did you… see my dad this morning?"

"No, he left around seven thirty. I listened to make sure he was gone before I got up," her eyes remained cast down, communicating shame.

With a conscious effort, I slid back a chair and seated myself across from her. This was the right thing to do, I told myself. With time and practice I could master it. "Don't let him upset you. This just hit us out of nowhere. He needs time to adjust to it and realize you're not as scary as he thinks." I searched her face apologetically. "And he's not alone."

"Jake, I'm so sorry…"

"No Bella, _I'm_ sorry," I asserted. "You've done nothing to be sorry for. I've acted like a jerk and definitely not like a friend. I'd ask you to kick me in the pants, except I've already done that enough myself, _and_ I'm afraid of you falling over."

The pouty mouth I saw confirmed that my attempt at humor had worked, but her eyes soon fell again. "Are you really okay with this? You're not just saying that because you feel sorry for me?"

"No – well, yes. I am sorry that you're in this situation, with no way of knowing whether they'll return before the… due date, or even at all," I struggled with the words. "I haven't always done a good job putting myself in other people's shoes, but now is a good time to start. I've finally realized that friendship isn't meant to be selfish."

When she didn't respond for what felt like an eternity, I feared my apology hadn't been accepted. Yet slowly, tenuously, understanding replaced the doubt in her eyes, and suddenly she seemed to be staring at me for the first time.

"You're amazing, you know that?" the awe in her voice was genuine. "I don't know many people who would do what you've done. It's one thing to obey an order, but it's entirely another to use it as an opportunity for personal growth. I'm fairly certain that wasn't part of Sam's order."

I granted her a smile. "It wasn't. That part is courtesy of yours truly."

"That's why you're such an amazing friend," she reached her hand across to cover mine. "I still don't know what I've done to deserve you, Jake. What you did for me last year was incredible, and now this. You do realize there's no way I could ever repay you."

"I'm not keeping score anymore, Bella." And I meant it. Forfeiting all the unrequited angst of the past two years felt more liberating than I'd ever imagined. Had I known the personal freedom and joy that forgiveness brought, I'd have signed up for it long ago. I felt like I could breathe fully now, my mind lighter than the air that filled my lungs.

"That's good, because if you were, I'd feel obligated to name the baby after you if it's a boy. I doubt Edward would be happy about that," she teased.

"Probably not," I grimaced, joining in the playful tone. "Wait… you don't know what it is yet?"

The corners of her mouth turned down slightly. "No. We tried to find out last month, but the amniotic sac is thicker than usual. It was kind of like looking through thick, frosted glass. Everything was too blurry."

"Oh. That… sucks."

"Not as much as it could," she gingerly arched her back to stretch. "Carlisle says I'm lucky, and I have to believe him. A million things could be going wrong that aren't." The implications made me shiver in revulsion.

"That's good." Until I grew more comfortable with my magnanimity, my side of the conversation would be clipped.

"Jake, we can talk about something else if you want," she sounded guilty.

I had to close my eyes for a minute. Forgiveness was proving to be more complex than I'd anticipated. Last night's revelation was just the beginning, one half of the equation. The other half involved behaving graciously in an uneasy situation. How valid was my change of heart if it folded so easily?

After a few long breaths, my head cleared and I replied. "No, it's fine. A girl might make a better conversational partner for this, but I'll do my best." If I could separate Bella, the object of my desire from Bella, the helpless houseguest who relied on me for safety as well as psychological balance, I could do this. At the end of the day, she was a _person_, and no less deserving of basic empathy than anyone else.

"So you were saying things are going pretty well?"

"Yeah, aside from the backache and fatigue. But that's par for the course, I'm told," she shrugged, one hand subconsciously drifting to her round belly. Then, with a sudden flush of embarrassment, she dropped it almost as quickly and buried it under the table.

"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.

She was back to avoiding my eyes again. "You may be okay with me talking about it, but the fewer reminders the better, right?"

A single laugh escaped my throat as I shook my head. "Do you really think not touching your stomach will make it invisible? Sorry to break it to you Bella, but the days of hiding it are long, long gone," I looked at the region in question with raised eyebrows. "Touch it or don't touch it, it's all the same to me."

"Thanks, Jake," her shoulders relaxed. "You really are the best host ever."

My own stomach answered before I could, roaring to be heard. "Well, even awesome hosts need to eat. Why don't you go ahead and shower, and when you're done we can search Craigslist together. Sound good?"

The appreciation in her eyes spoke for itself, but she confirmed it anyway. "That sounds perfect."


	16. Chapter 16: Asylum: Part 2

**CHAPTER 16 – Asylum: Part 2**

**Bella**

The bed Jacob bought that afternoon didn't resolve my sleep disturbances. Whatever relief it gave my back was being offset by my steadily expanding center of gravity. The mattress couldn't be designed that completely erased pregnancy discomfort, I was convinced. Yet even if it could be, and all my physical ailments melted away each night, my slumber would still be fitful at best. Because far more fantastical than bodily comfort was mental relief.

The full psychological impact didn't hit me until my second week there. Until that point, I'd been operating under the blissful assumption that this was merely a brief stay, a pleasant vacation with an old friend. Never mind the old comparison between house guests and fish. Our friendship was such that I could stay an entire month without wearing out my welcome.

And then, one evening when my head hit the pillow, the realization that I'd probably end up staying that long – likely longer – crashed down on me like a ton of bricks. I couldn't shut my eyes for over an hour, during which time I fought at least half a dozen panic attacks. Everything now appeared jarringly clear to me. Funny how the dark of night can bring some of life's most elucidating moments.

The sheer volatility of the situation was terrifying enough, but what tortured me most was deciding whether the baby helped or complicated things. I tried imagining my state of mind if I wasn't pregnant. While it would presumably distill my anxiety, it would also leave me without a tangible reason to hope. Although we couldn't communicate, having another vulnerable being with me was strangely reassuring. As if Edward's chances of surviving increased in direct proportion to the number of loved ones he left behind.

Of course, all the standard pregnancy and labor fears slipped in between these larger issues, but they were generally dwarfed. Just another instance of extra complications being beneficial. Without the greater distractions, I'd be nauseating myself with thoughts of hemorrhaging during childbirth. For me, it was better to envision Edward disappearing than anything related to blood.

Between my desperate attempts to focus on the positive and Jacob's efforts to divert me, the daylight hours gradually became tolerable. He did an excellent job of providing me with all the books, videos, and gadgets I needed to forget that another day had passed without a Cullen calling. When the weather was nice enough, he even scheduled picnics out on the rocky cliffs overlooking LaPush beach. He carried me to our spot, of course, which I only pretended to take indignantly. The larger I grew, the closer I came to a total guarantee of falling.

Over a month passed in this manner, and still Jacob's presence managed to keep unbridled terror at bay. One sunny afternoon found us once again on a thick wool blanket, over which were spilled the contents of our picnic basket. Reaching for an apple, I spotted the unmistakable gleam of amusement in his eyes.

"What? Don't tell me you could hear me talking in my sleep again last night," I moaned, bracing myself for another embarrassing account of my nighttime ramblings, which were apparently loud enough to carry through walls.

He shook his head. "Nope… well, I did hear a few random words, but that's not what I'm thinking about right now," he smirked through chewing on his sandwich. "You're getting heavy."

I wasn't sure whether that was better or worse than sleep-talking. Halting the apple halfway to my mouth, I blinked. "Um, I'm sure I am… isn't that kind of predictable?"

"Sure. But the _degree_ of heaviness isn't."

"Excuse me? What are you saying?"

He finished chewing and took a gulp of water from his thermos. "I'm saying you feel a lot heavier than I'd expect, given that I've carried you before and I'm pretty good at gauging how much something weighs."

I still couldn't decide whether or not to feel insulted. At the very least, I was mildly incredulous. "How many pregnant women have you carried?"

"None besides you," he admitted. "But my sister said she gained thirty pounds last year before having her son. And there's more than thirty extra pounds on you."

Suddenly I'd lost my appetite. "What would you say the difference is?" I gulped.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully, realizing this was treacherous territory. "My estimate doesn't really matter… we'll just have you step on a scale when we get back."

His evasiveness couldn't be a good sign. Though I pleaded and wailed the entire way home, he remained firm in his revolve to let the bathroom scale do the talking. I was eventually reduced to staring at my bloated stomach and wondering if it was filled with lead. For better or worse, Jacob had a real talent for distracting me from graver issues.

I wasted no time charging into the bathroom when we returned. With ever-mounting dread, I lifted one foot onto the ridged black surface, drew a steadying breath, and transferred my full weight onto the device.

They say denial is the first step in the grieving process. Anger and bargaining come later, followed ultimately by acceptance. As I stared at the thin black needle below me, I knew nothing short of a miracle would get me past the first step. As for the others, they were sheer fantasy.

Jacob, who had been hovering in the doorway, grew concerned when I didn't speak. "So what's the verdict?" he asked cautiously.

"See for yourself," I forced the words through clenched teeth.

Unsure whether that was an invitation or a warning, he hesitated a moment, then carefully leaned in to glimpse the dial. Then it was his turn to stare silently. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the impossible sight: _148._

"I don't suppose it's worth asking if this thing is broken."

He shook his head slowly, not wanting to aggravate me further. "I've weighed myself on it every day for the past two years, and it's never acted funny." Turning now to face me, he paused. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you weigh about 100 pounds before?"

I nodded, glaring. "Fully clothed."

"So you've gained almost twice as much weight in seven and a half months of pregnancy as most women do in nine."

Bitter silence was my response. This wasn't the time to point out I'd technically only been pregnant for six months. In any case, the needle wasn't budging and I'd had enough of its humiliation, so I dragged myself over to sit on the toilet cover. It creaked in protest.

"I take it you didn't know this was happening?" Jacob eased back against the wall, crossing his arms in curiosity.

I snorted. "No. The Cullens don't own a scale. Why would they? They never change… always perfectly proportioned, sculpted like models," insecure jealousy mixed all too well with pregnancy hormones. "I can't remember the last time I weighed myself. It must have been before the wedding. After that, I just went by how my clothes fit… until this, obviously," I pointed to the balloon that was my abdomen. Jake stared at it, but his expression was more intrigued than repulsed, much to my relief.

"You're not… fat anywhere else," he observed. "Your legs and arms are still thin. Take away the belly, and you're the same as always."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that I should be appreciative. Most pregnant women would rejoice at avoiding unwanted fat accumulation. Yet gratitude was quickly replaced by alarm. If fat wasn't behind my unaccountable weight gain, then that left only one culprit, and the implications nearly made me collapse onto the tiled floor. Resting my elbows on my knees, I gripped my face in a desperate attempt to keep from passing out.

"Bella, you don't look so good," Jacob warned, taking two strides across to kneel next to me.

"You wouldn't either if you'd just discovered you were carrying over a thirty-pound baby," the words sounded absolutely freakish.

"Okay, just take a few deep breaths. Can you do that?" he placed a comforting hand on my upper back.

I was too disoriented to argue, much less think of a better alternative, so I did as he suggested. A few minutes later and my head felt attached to my body again. "Jake… this can't be real. Babies are only supposed to be seven or eight pounds when they're born."

A condescending huff escaped his nose. "Yeah, _normal_ babies."

That's when my foolish complacency imploded. Did I really expect to arrive at the finish line without one abnormal experience, with nothing to distinguish this pregnancy from any other? As if it were as routine and unexceptional as they come? What kind of an idiot presumes a half-vampire baby will follow normal patterns of development? One could argue that the accelerated gestation was abnormal enough, but honestly, that was too benign to qualify. It was inevitable that something else, something far more alarming, would eventually manifest itself.

"This may or may not help, but I'm really not surprised," Jacob resumed. "Think about it. The stronger the metal, the heavier it usually is. And vampires are stronger than steel. Have you ever asked Edward how much he weighs? Ever tried to move his arm?"

Rapidly scanning my most personal, intimate memories, I tried to recall even one instance that would disprove Jacob's point. I found nothing. Edward didn't sleep, so I'd never nudged him in bed to shift position. From every physical aspect of our relationship, he was dominant; yet he forced nothing against my will, so I never had any reason to resist. As for discussing weight, the subject never crossed my mind. Why should it when my spouse was a mobile Adonis statue? Who could care less what he weighed?

Jacob correctly interpreted my silence. "Then I hate to break it to you Bella, but this _is_ normal." He slapped one hand against his thigh as he stood up. "Look on the bright side – now we know what's causing your back pain."

I laughed mirthlessly. "I'd figured I was just weak."

"Wow," he rolled his eyes. "Nobody but you."

"Hey, how could I have known? It's not like I have any prior experience to compare it to."

He just shook his head and chuckled. "Some things will never change. But I guess that can be a good thing."

Yawning, I suddenly felt drowsy. "Another good thing is a nap… I think I'll take one now, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead," he encouraged. "You need all the sleep you can get to grow that prize-winning baby."

Tired as I was, I didn't grace him with a response. I simply heaved myself up by the edge of the cabinet and shuffled into the den, too exhausted to care that his eyes followed me until I slid into bed. Sleep came almost instantly, dreamless and heavy as always in the afternoon; I awoke an hour and a half later in a semi-conscious state with leaden, immobilized limbs. My half-lidded eyes absently studied the patterns cast by the late afternoon sun. Somewhere in their abstract intricacies I found solace. Their shapes were as undefined as my own fate, shifting at random intervals, never revealing their next move.

My hand sluggishly moved across my stomach and was greeted by a gentle push from within. Ironically, it was times like this that I felt the most alone, more vulnerable than ever. Though Jacob was doing an admirable job of putting aside his personal issues and discomfort, he could never fully substitute Edward. I didn't expect him to. Yet I longed for someone with whom I could share my deepest hopes and fears, now more than ever.

Talking to the baby only resolved some of my psychological tension; not knowing its gender obfuscated things. I couldn't address it by name, envision it as a toddler, or imagine what combination of Edward and my features it would have. Though I loved it desperately, there was a slight emotional disconnect, like an electrical plug that was only half inserted into an outlet… and only Edward could make it engage the rest of the way.

Only Edward.

But what happens if Edward doesn't return?

It had been six weeks since they left. Not one phone call or email had been sent. If they had failed, who would inform us? Certainly not the crazed newborns or their creator, whoever that was. Their deaths would be mute, inconsequential, as if they'd never existed at all. Endless silence alone would testify and give the eulogy. Though it was a harrowing thought, I needed to confront it head on. I owed it to myself – and our child – to plan for the worst case scenario. Only a fool allows foreseeable tragedy to take him by surprise, and I was done being foolish. It was time to be no-nonsense.

There were four possible outcomes. Most preferable, obviously, was that the entire Cullen family returned unharmed. Next in preference was that only some of the Cullens returned, including Edward. Next was some of the Cullens returned without Edward. And lastly, none of them returned at all. Broken down like this, Edward had a 50/50 chance of returning. Not the most ideal odds, but arguably better than nothing.

The latter scenarios demanded serious attention, and hypothetical forecasting was the best approach. If tomorrow I woke to learn of Edward's death, what would become of me mentally and emotionally? Would I spiral into an abyss deeper than any black hole, or simply drift into a gray expanse of ether where no one could follow? Would my spirit cease to exist, or would it somehow persevere despite missing its foundation?

Abysmal despair was a powerful temptation. But its pull weakened slightly each time the baby moved.

Those four outcomes may be beyond my control, but there was one over which I had total control: choosing to face life courageously for this baby, who deserved a loving, devoted role model. I could choose to sacrifice my fear, anxiety, and loneliness for another's sake. I possessed that power. The choice was mine, regardless of which outcome fate gave me.

Tears strayed onto my pillow that afternoon, though not from the despair lurking in my room these past several weeks. These were tears of conviction. The power of selfless love was overwhelming, especially the first time one truly experiences it. I allowed it to drown me in breathtaking waves, simultaneously soothing and electrifying me as I hugged the baby. I didn't move until Jacob brought me dinner hours later.


	17. Chapter 17: Sleuth

**CHAPTER 17 – Sleuth**

**Edward**

Denali had nothing on the Yukon when it came to isolation. What I'd considered sparse and remote in Alaska seemed bustling compared to this place. Old Crow, whose microscopic airport sat unmanned after the slaughter, was the northernmost settlement in the territory. Its three-hundred-odd population had been separated from the nearest community by over eighty miles, and ironically, that was as the crow flies. No roads connected these outposts, leaving the sinuous Porcupine River the only sure guide from village to village. The thought of navigating this raw land without a private plane made me shudder.

Ours made the flight in decent time, Emmett guiding us down the craggy runway as smoothly as he could. When our bones finally stopped rattling, we stepped out cautiously into the blazing midday sun. The bowl of the sky felt ten times broader here, violently blue from edge to edge, mirroring the immense vastness it reigned over.

Across the tarmac sat a go-cart with a tattered suitcase strapped to its cargo area. Its nylon straps fluttered eerily as we surveyed other abandoned equipment – dingy orange cones placed randomly, a metal dolly cart with one wheel missing. They were all tombstones in an arid graveyard whose mausoleum awaited us behind pitted concrete walls.

Toward the command center we walked without speaking a word. Not even the sound of a distant hawk reached our ears as we trampled thick weeds heaving up through the cracks. Though I hoped the atmosphere in the building would be more comfortable, I wasn't counting on it. At least it would shield us from the unshakable feeling that we were being watched by a dozen pairs of eyes.

As a veteran vampire, few things had power to revolt me anymore. This place was a definite exception. Chipped and peeling linoleum tugged at the soles of our shoes as myriad insects skittered in every direction to avoid us. In one corner, a captain's chair listed on its pedestal, vinyl upholstery torn to reveal pockets of off-white stuffing. A half-eaten hot dog lay on a paper plate next to the dispatch communicator, its bun thoroughly soaked from a spilled can of Mountain Dew. The still-life was almost unrecognizable beneath the horde of ants marching to and from its bounty. The walls, whose original color may or may not have been in the teal family, were coated in impenetrable layers of cigarette grime.

Nowhere did I see anything that might have served as a security checkpoint. This place didn't need one. Anyone who came here risked their own life far more than anyone else's.

"Wow," Alice broke the silence. "This looks more like a year of neglect than a month."

"Welcome to Old Crow, premier celebrity destination," Emmett deadpanned.

I focused on holding my breath, a nuisance more than an actual challenge. The sooner we finished combing this God-forsaken place for clues, the better. Scanning the chaos for something useful, my eyes eventually settled on one of several dog-eared maps pinned to a giant corkboard, its creased surface littered with dozens of thumbtacks. It was a municipal map of the greater Yukon territory; next to each pin was a hastily scribbled name, the ink faded nearly to the point of illegibility. I deciphered them for a minute.

"Carlisle, come take a look at this," I said warily. Pulling away from a thick volume on the counter, he joined me at the bulletin board. "These are all the towns, villages, and camps in the Yukon. Even land formations… look, here's 'Volcano Mountain,'" I pointed to a blue pin just southwest of the territory's center.

"A volcano?" Alice overheard, stepping over to stand beside us. "I didn't know there were any volcanoes up here."

"Neither did I," Carlisle remarked.

"Quite a few, by the looks of it. Volcano mountain is actually the furthest north. The rest are all concentrated in the south," I observed.

Alice made a face. "Looks like that's where the population is concentrated too. I'll never understand some people. Hawaii freaks me out as it is."

"Well, if the newborns got a glimpse of this map, volcanoes are the least of these people's worries."

Carlisle stroked his chin thoughtfully. "In all likelihood, they knew the distribution before coming here. That's why they started in the north – they're planning a trickle-down effect, gaining strength and experience as they travel downward."

"Making the south their grand finale," I gritted my teeth.

"I don't understand. Don't they realize they can't keep decimating entire towns? At some point they'll… run out of food," Alice frowned, as troubled by their wanton destruction as their stupefying lack of foresight.

"The day I understand their objective will be the day hell freezes over," I crossed my arms. "Don't try to rationalize it. You'll just give yourself a headache."

As if on cue, Alice's face suddenly tightened, eyes glazing over just as I'd seen hundreds of times before. The others soon noticed and gathered around us, exchanging uneasy glances as we all awaited her exposition. I was more eager than anxious. Any additional insight would be welcome at this point, even if it was a cataclysmic vision of the end of the world. At least that would provide us something to plan around.

At last she inhaled, blinking to fix the images in her mind. "They've passed through Whitestone Village… there's nothing left. I see them crossing over mountains, arriving at a city just beyond the range…"

My eyes flew back to the map, piecing her words together to trace the newborns' course. Whitestone Village was the next settlement south of Old Crow along the Porcupine. From there, I needed to locate the next city down that sat below a mountain range. It didn't take long; next to a yellow pin halfway down the map was scrawled _Ogilvie Mtns_, directly south of which was another pin labeled _Dawson_.

"I bet it's here," I pointed decisively to the pair of tacks.

Carlisle nodded. "That makes sense, and it fits the description." He swept our faces expectantly. "Shall we proceed?"

"No time to waste," Emmett smacked a fist into his palm.

We didn't bother stopping at Whitestone. There was no point; Alice was certain the carnage was already done, and the newborn army was well on their way. Our trajectory took us due south, aiming to reach the Ogilvies before they did. That shouldn't prove to be too difficult. If only the same could be said about formulating a plan for when arrived.

Alice had counted over twenty vampires in her vision. Though we had suspected as much, there now remained no doubt that this conflict must be resolved through guile rather than strength.

But there was no reasoning with newborns. They possessed no higher sensibility to which we could appeal. Feral instinct governed their actions, driven only by the primal need to procure their next meal. How could we possibly work with that? How did a coven of sophisticated, enlightened vampires successfully negotiate with ones on the farthest end of the spectrum?

Emmett and Rosalie seemed carefree enough as we soared over the wild landscape. She was commenting on the intriguing geology of the area, while he mused about the wildlife available for consumption. I allowed my mind to wander briefly, imagining the varied ecosystems we must be passing over. The diversity was sure to increase the further south we went. Volcanic regions typically fostered rare habitats, the soil richer, the land formations more unique…

Inspiration came suddenly, interrupting my daydream with insistent force. The volcanoes. If we were smart about it, we might just be able to use them to our advantage.

"You're scheming something, aren't you?" Jasper said quietly next to me.

Keeping my voice down, I inclined my head slightly. "Yes, and I'll be asking you and Alice to pay a visit to your old friend J. Jenks."


	18. Chapter 18: Risk

**CHAPTER 18 – Risk**

**Edward**

Telling everyone my plan was easy enough, though I wasn't sure whether they'd accepted it on its own merit or because none of them had any alternatives. Either way, Jasper and Alice had entered Dawson City to charter a plane back down to Washington. With any luck, they'd return in a few days with everything we needed. The difficult part was waiting.

Out on the wind-swept prairie at the foot of the mountains, I'd made everyone rehearse the newborn confrontation so many times they could do it in their sleep – if they'd been capable of sleeping. We tried to account for every last twist or unexpected turn, knowing our efforts were limited at best but having no other option. There came a point when even I had to admit we'd practiced to excess. What I didn't admit, however, was that I'd been using our training exercises to distract myself from thoughts of Bella. Immersing myself in strategic hunter mode was the perfect diversion. Without it, staying sane and focused was a chore.

Our mood lifted when they returned ahead of schedule. After taking stock of their inventory and instructing them further, they departed once again, this time in the direction of the southeast. There was no turning back now. It was do or die from this point forward. As Dawson City fell under a breathtakingly crimson sunset, each of us kept watch over the majestic peaks that should have elicited awe rather than dread.

Carlisle was the first to spot them. Where he pointed, I could see their distant forms like ants creeping out of a sandy mound. Except these ants were just as capable of destroying an entire town as a troupe of brown ones might infest your pantry sugar. Standing at fifty-foot intervals, we positioned ourselves to intercept the approaching storm. We were operating on the assumption that their leader would be obvious, leading the charge as boldly as their previous conquests suggested.

That theory proved accurate. Even from a distance, a single figure could be seen guiding the rest, unhurried yet confident as it drew closer. When they were within several hundred feet of our perimeter, I identified the guide as female. And her path was aimed directly at me.

Good thing I knew the script better than anyone else. I had, after all, invented it.

But that didn't guarantee it would be easy. Especially since the approaching troupe didn't exactly match our expectations.

In place of ragged, disheveled clothing were neat garments that betrayed nothing of their wearers' ferocious nature. Everything about them was graceful, from the well-combed hair on their heads to the smooth gait carried by their feet. None were barefoot. There seemed to be an even mix of male and female members. What shocked me most was their refinement, their composure. A cursory scan of their eyes revealed not even the slightest hint of primitive zeal. Invidious as it was to admit, they looked much like us.

The leader was no exception. Blond hair pulled neatly back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, she wore a pair of cropped khaki pants, a striped button-up blouse, and a disarming smile.

"Don't tell me we're too late, and that you've cleaned out this lovely little town," she feigned to pout, head tilted playfully with both hands on her hips.

This was altogether too bizarre. Not only weren't these the snarling, crouching animals we'd anticipated, but they possessed wit and humor. Could it be they weren't newborns after all? The Volturi had assumed they were, based on their indiscreet behavior, but the evidence before us said otherwise. How this complicated things, I couldn't be sure yet.

"No, we haven't entered the city," my hands wrung themselves like a dishcloth behind my back. "And you may not want to, either."

"Why is that?"

"The humans here are aware. They've heard about what happened in the north, and rumors are circulating about our kind." It wasn't necessarily a lie. No doubt all of Canada was keenly aware of the area's recent massacres. This town was likely on pins and needles, whether they suspected mythological creatures or not.

Crossing her arms, she smiled coyly. "How do we know you're not just saying that to keep them all to yourselves?"

It was my turn to smile. This part, at least, was proceeding as planned. "Take a step closer. Do you notice anything different about us?"

She indulged my offer by cutting the distance between us in half, curious eyes roaming over my form and then the others'. "No offense, but you're nothing remarkable. Except for maybe your eyes... they're different."

"Do you know why?"

"No. I wasn't aware our eyes could be anything other than red."

"Normally, they're not," I relaxed slightly, slowly regaining a sense of control over the situation. "This color appears if we only drink animal blood."

Realization, mixed with equal parts astonishment and distaste, painted her features. "Ah…I see. While I can't say I understand your choice, it does lend credibility to your warning. But where are my manners? I am Georgia, and these are my colleagues," she gestured toward the patiently waiting throng behind her. Then again, patient wasn't quite the word to describe them. Bored seemed more accurate.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Edward, and this is my family." Well, not all of it, but no need to mention that.

Nodding to all of us, Georgia's arms remained crossed. "So if you didn't come to compete with us, what brings you here?"

When in doubt, appeal to their vanity. "Your group is already somewhat of a legend. You'd be surprised how quickly word has spread about your… accomplishments," the word sickened me. "We came out of curiosity, to witness the legend for ourselves."

"Why would animal-drinkers like you be interested in meeting us? Our tactics won't improve your hunting."

Now was when things could get dicey. "Don't judge us so quickly. You don't know our reasons for living this way. We found the nomadic lifestyle to be too much of a burden. The constant fear of being discovered wasn't to our taste either. In short, it was a compulsory decision more than a voluntary one." I prayed my deceit wasn't blaringly obvious. How less nerve-wracking this would be if they were newborns; naiveté would be a great asset right about now.

Fortunately, she nodded. "So you're hoping to get 'back on the horse' after a pep talk from us."

"More or less," I smiled unevenly. "But we are honestly intrigued. No one has ever attempted what you're doing – and survived, anyway."

Suspicion suddenly darkened her eyes. "What do you know of attempts and consequences?"

Though it wasn't the reaction I'd expected, it didn't preclude me continuing with the script. "Just that certain individuals dislike ostentatious displays like yours, and they tend to demonstrate their disapproval rather harshly."

Her suspicion deepened considerably at this. Glaring at me with eyes that could cut glass, she shifted her posture into a more defensive stance. "I presume you're referring to the Volturi?"

This was one surprise too many. They weren't acting from lack of knowledge of the Volturi – they were acting in spite of it. This altered the entire course of our interaction, and I fought to regroup my carefully constructed dialogue. I blanched at having to throw it out the window, but there appeared to be few other options.

"Thought you were going to enlighten us, didn't you?" Georgia sneered. "Sorry to disappoint you, but we're not some random group of idiots who have no clue what they're doing."

"Clearly not," I acknowledged. "If you don't mind me asking then, what _are_ you doing? Most would consider your actions… suicidal." My best – and only – chance remained in learning their directive and somehow exploiting it.

Georgia appraised me for a minute, imperious as she debated whether or not to answer. A bemused smile appeared on her lips. "For a moment there I thought you might be one of them, sent here to rein us in. But none of them would ever be caught off-guard like you just were," she posited. How ironic my faulty poker face helped our cause. "So I'll let you in on a little secret. We don't just know about the Volturi. We intend to supplant them."

"Supplant?"

"You do know the definition of the word, don't you?" she sneered. "Replace. Overthrow. That's the general idea."

"I know what it means. But why and how you plan to do it, I couldn't begin to guess."

Evidently pleased with my incredulity, she began pacing slowly, deliberately before me. "The 'why' shouldn't be too hard to understand. Who wouldn't prefer a nobler, more reasonable government? One that engages its cohort in fair, open communication, instead of simply destroying those who defy its arbitrary rules? Where the 'commoners' are given a voice, a democratic process by which our kind can evolve?"

Her conviction and eloquence stunned me. I'd been expecting a brutish quest for power, not a political agenda founded on quasi-altruism. What a warped sense of virtue they had, performing a holocaust in pursuit of a more humane world. The sort of incongruity all too common among those who devalue human life.

"How does wiping out these towns achieve that goal?"

"It serves two purposes. The first is training. If we're to usher in a new era and guide our people well, we must have ample experience. We can't counsel others about their behavior if we haven't tested our own." So Carlisle had been right – they were using them as a series of training ranges. "It also acts as a beacon. Not all of these –" she nodded toward her army, "–were part of my original group. You're not the only ones to travel this far to satisfy your curiosity."

Their numbers were growing? Then who could say how many were currently en route? Another dozen, another hundred could be approaching as we spoke. The risk was escalating at an alarming rate. If I didn't diffuse it soon, the scale would permanently tip the way it was leaning.

It was time to cast bait. "You've definitely attracted a lot of attention, and for a good cause. We admire your vision and might even consider joining you. But before we commit ourselves to that lifestyle, we need to be sure our leaders are unequivocally the strongest."

Georgia grimaced. "Why would you doubt that we are?"

"Oh, no doubt you're far stronger than us. But take it from someone who's been in the Volturi chamber one too many times – you have to be a thousand times stronger if you want to overthrow them."

Mulling over my cautionary words, her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Indeed. Well, then, you wouldn't happen to know how we can increase our strength a thousand-fold, would you?"

"Actually, I do. How familiar are you with this region's geography?"

"Familiar enough to travel without a map," she replied smartly.

"What about specific landmarks? Major earth formations?"

She seemed mildly irritated now. "What are you getting at? We know the direction we're heading in, and we've memorized the locations of all the cities and settlements. What else do we need?"

"Something incredibly powerful. Something the Volturi don't want anyone to discover," I said gravely. "Did you ever wonder how they established dominion over the entire world?"

"I have, many times," Georgia remarked. "I always figured they were opportunistic, forming an oligarchy before anyone else thought to."

"That may be, but if all vampires are equal, then theoretically anyone could have overthrown them at any point in history. Yet that's never happened, because the Volturi possess a supreme source of power."

"And what's that?" she asked skeptically.

I paused briefly for effect. "A volcano."

My answer clearly baffled her. "A _volcano?_ What on earth are you talking about?"

"The Volturi's origins are obscure at best, and they like to keep it that way. But Carlisle here used to be one of them, many centuries ago, and he learned that they didn't exist as a ruling class until the year 79."

"What happened in that year?" she seemed marginally less skeptical, but I had a long way to go to convince her.

"One of the most destructive events in history – Mount Vesuvius erupted," I said matter-of-factly. "Back then, vampires lived underground, never showing themselves during the day. They stayed bunkered until they heard the screams stop, then crawled their way out through the rubble. Most feared the volcano and fled the area – except for a handful who were drawn to the mountain's power."

I paused again to assess Georgia's expression. So far, she appeared to be listening without too much cynicism. My historical yarn was being received well enough. It helped that it wasn't entirely fabricated; Carlisle had formed this hypothesis years ago, though he had no definitive proof.

"That trio was Aro, Caius, and Marcus," I continued. "Unaffected by the cloud of ash, they climbed to the volcano's summit and stood in awe of its strength. It wasn't until days later, when they were feeding in a distant town, that they realized they'd been forever changed by that expedition. They found their strength had increased exponentially, and one of them, Aro, had gained a supernatural power to scan others' minds."

"And this was all thanks to being on the lip of a volcano?"

"The gas and metal ions released by the eruption somehow affected their physiology. But you don't have to understand the chemistry to appreciate their before-and-after profiles," I met her eyes squarely. "What matters is they used to be like us, but the eruption changed them forever. And you won't stand a chance against them unless you undergo that same transformation."

Her face was guarded now, impassive as she processed everything. I could only hope my history-science lesson sounded legitimate enough to persuade her. Down the line, I heard Emmett mentally high-five me: _Well done, Professor Cullen! You could make an A student out of the likes of me._ If only I could direct his enthusiasm into Georgia's calculating mind.

When she finally spoke, I could tell she was prepared to measure my response exactingly. "You're telling me this to help our cause, which I'm inclined to appreciate, if you'll answer one question. If you've known this secret all along, why haven't you taken advantage of it yourselves?"

I smiled, more from relief than geniality. Hopefully she couldn't tell the difference. "We considered it, of course. But ultimately, we decided it would be too complicated. With only five of us, we'd have to rally others to join us, and that wasn't something we felt confident doing. We've never been very… charismatic," I added with a wan smile. "If we failed to gather enough interest, we'd just end up frustrated. So we chose the path of least resistance."

"How very humble. Without a doubt, you are some of the strangest vampires I've ever met," Georgia returned the smile somewhat mockingly, then resumed her pacing. "But that doesn't mean I'm not interested in this theory of yours. I see no harm in climbing a cinder cone. It's rather like a chicken crossing the road to see what's on the other side," her shoulders shook briefly at her own humor. "Am I to presume, then, that there is a volcano nearby?"

"About a hundred miles southeast of here," I confirmed. "It hasn't erupted in ages. It's a shield volcano, but its lava floes should still release ions, if only in small concentrations."

She nodded, exuding apathy more than anything else. "A fun diversion, if nothing else. We have a little flexibility in our schedule," she turned toward her army, who consented with silence. Yet _we_ were the strangest in the vampire world? Ironic.

Stifling the urge to celebrate a premature victory, I simply smiled. "Shall I lead the way?"


	19. Chapter 19: Lava

**CHAPTER 19 – Lava**

**Edward**

Half an hour later, we arrived at our destination, the stiff grass poking up between ugly gray and black mounds of aged lava. I took little notice of the changing landscape as my eyes roamed for any trace of Alice or Jasper – and more importantly, what they should've done to the mountainside. Though I scanned furiously, I saw nothing conspicuous, nothing that didn't blend into the uneven ground. That either meant they'd failed to complete their task in time, or they'd performed it as well as they should have. And I had no way of telling which it was.

"Well, here we are," Georgia announced, hands in her back pockets. "So is there any trick to this? Or do we just go to the top, enjoy the view for a while, and come back down?"

"As I understand it," I shrugged. "Just take your time climbing up. You want to prolong your exposure to the ions as much as possible."

As if on cue, a red-orange streak flared halfway up the mountain, oozing several feet before cooling and hardening into place. Georgia eyed it approvingly, then turned back to me. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"You're the leaders," I deferred respectfully. "You deserve to go first. We'll keep an eye out for incoming visitors."

Suspicion flickered briefly in her eyes, but the mountain's mystique pulled her forward.

How this had all come together was nothing short of miraculous. I watched in frozen awe as they ascended the lumpy slope, like moths lured inexorably to a campfire. Our plan, initially a radical wager, had unfolded exactly as we'd hoped. Yet there was one remaining piece, one final switch that truly determined our failure or success. If this last step failed, all the earlier stages were for nothing. All my smooth deceit and charm would be better off never spoken at all.

And of course, she who'd given me the strength to follow through would be utterly alone, except for one individual I'd never meet. The massive weight of my entire world rested in my back pocket, where I now surreptitiously brought my hand to rest. My fingertips brushed against the hard plastic edge of a control box; my throat tightened to the point where if I'd been breathing, I'd have asphyxiated myself.

I could feel the others' eyes burning into me, their thoughts screaming at me to act. _Edward! What are you waiting for? They're in the perfect position. Press the button and let's get out of here! _

At last the pivotal moment came when I realized nothing would happen if I didn't force myself to comply. Certain events, like jumping off a diving board for the first time as a child, were simply impossible without a thoughtless, impulsive move. I closed my eyes as tightly as possible. As if triggered by an electrical current, my thumb sprang forward abruptly, moving the tiny switch just half an inch. The soft click barely registered before the explosion.

We managed to run several hundred yards before the debris reached its highest point. In the few seconds it took to reach safer ground, our ears felt like they'd exploded along with the mountain. The overwhelming force of the C4 detonation threw us off-balance as we catapulted forward. When we finally stopped, shaken to the core, we looked tremblingly back to the scene behind us.

The entire mountain was ablaze in a landslide of lava, its black skin ruptured like a giant scab. Trapped in its searing tide, Georgia's army flailed desperately to escape, but their screams diminished as fewer and fewer of them remained above ground. I watched in captivated horror as the red-hot liquid claimed each of them, drowning them mercilessly in the scalding sea. It was like witnessing the fusion of quicksand and fire.

Even after the lava turned deep burgundy and there were no further signs of struggle, we were superstitious that they'd emerge at the sound of our voices, so we kept silent vigil over the smoking embers of their tomb. We might have stayed that way indefinitely if Jasper and Alice hadn't returned minutes later. Walking cautiously over to my side, Alice gazed at the charred expanse that had been ignited not long ago.

"It worked," she said quietly.

I drew a steadying breath and answered just as simply. "Yes."

"Do we get a high five, at least?" Jasper folded his arms in mock indignation.

Emmett obliged him, smacking their palms together in a thunderous clap. "Nice job, you two. Couldn't even tell there was C4 buried everywhere."

Carlisle placed a grateful hand on each of their shoulders. "It was almost _too_ good a job. We weren't sure if you'd actually finished or not," he glanced ruefully in my direction.

Scoffing, Alice turned up her nose. "Oh, please. We had over three hours to work. Even if we were going at human speed, we'd have finished easily. The hard part was getting the C4 permit from Jenks and finding a reputable supplier. You wouldn't believe how corrupted that market is."

I couldn't help but smile at her naiveté. "At least you'll know for next time."

"There better not be a 'next time' anytime soon," she threatened. "I've had enough of this one as it is. What do you say we head out?"

Nothing would make me happier. But unfortunately, a few loose ends still needed closure. "We can't yet. Not until we've intercepted every last pilgrim who's on their way to meet Georgia."

None of them had considered this liability, I could see it in their stricken faces. "If enough of them band together, the situation will just repeat itself," I explained. "We can't allow them to meet and revive the revolution. I say we hang around Dawson's outskirts for at least another two weeks. If they're still coming by that point, we'll stay longer. Whatever happens, we can't leave prematurely."

Though everyone exchanged uncertain glances, no one objected. There really was no reason to. We'd accomplished our task within twenty-four hours of landing in the Yukon; a few extra weeks of moderate vigilance were all that remained. Not bad for a mission that could have taken months to complete – months of taut anxiety not only for our immediate survival, but for the Volturi's wrath if we failed. We found ourselves in a scenario which, quite frankly, I never imagined possible. It was beyond ideal. In a way, it hadn't fully sunk in yet.

"Good thing I always bring a deck of cards on long trips," Alice smirked.

Those next few weeks were painstaking, to say the least. We wore Alice's card deck to shreds, waiting to spot another wandering figure on the horizon. Sometimes she'd see it in advance, but generally we had no idea if and when the next nomad would arrive to break our boredom. The reprieve wasn't that impressive either. It became all too predictable: a traveler would approach, mistake us for Georgia's party, and turn away in mute disappointment when they learned of her demise. We conveniently failed to mention that if they stuck around, they might meet other kindred spirits arriving soon.

And so it went, delivering the news to one dejected vampire after another, until we'd met over forty of them within a month. That averaged out to just over one a day, which wasn't nearly as exciting as it sounded. By then, we were all itching to return home, but the fear of missing just a handful of vampires – and the resurgence that would enable – trumped our mental restlessness.

Only after a solid week passed without any encounters did I declare our duty finished. As the sun set over this remote land, the site of so much damage and potentially more, we piled into the plane and released our collective tension when the engine rumbled to life. The amber landscape was more melancholy than ever as we propelled over it one final time, headed south toward things I dared not think about until we landed.

Had the ground not been saturated with rain, I might have asked Emmett to land in the middle of the reservation. No doubt he'd accept the challenge with a grin. But the last thing we needed was to upset our tenuous agreement with the wolves, especially when they had the power to withhold Bella from us.

The instant Emmett cut the engine, my phone was open with Jacob's number dialed. After three rings and a hurried conversation, we were off to Quileute land, my nerves even more on edge than they'd been a month ago. Although Jacob hadn't mentioned any deterioration in Bella's condition, something inside warned me she wasn't quite as well as when I'd left her. Whatever fueled this nagging suspicion, I'd find out soon enough.

They were standing in the same formation as they'd greeted us before, grouped along the treaty line expectantly. In the rapidly dimming light of a rain-soaked dusk, I tried to spot Bella among them. But every face I saw was too tan to be hers.

"Welcome back," Sam's voice called out. "Were you successful, then?"

"We were," I affirmed proudly, but had no interest in congratulatory speeches. "Where's Bella?"

"Jacob," Sam nodded over his left shoulder.

I expected her to step out from behind him, having hidden herself to increase the suspense. Instead, I watched in confusion as Jacob walked over to who I thought was Billy in his wheelchair. Grasping the handles to guide it down the wet embankment, he took cautious steps toward me, scowling as the rain ran into his eyes.

Shock electrocuted me the moment I realized it was Bella in the wheelchair.

A million alarms sounded in my brain. What could be wrong with her? Had the pregnancy made her paraplegic? Or had it weakened her so much that even standing exhausted her? I knew it – I knew the smooth progress we'd been enjoying was too good to be true. I was right to loathe a human-vampire baby; nothing good could ever come of it, and the proof was being wheeled toward me now.

"Bella –" I gasped, crouching down to embrace her gingerly. "A-are you all right? Please tell me this isn't… permanent," I croaked in utter agony.

She smiled compassionately at me, one hand tousling my hair while the other rested on her stomach, which had grown considerably since I'd last seen it. "Edward, I'm fine. Well, as fine as I can be, considering our baby weighs over thirty pounds. Jake refurbished his dad's old wheelchair to take the strain off my back."

Had I heard her correctly? Thirty pounds? I paused, uncertain how to respond. I was far from an expert on babies, but instinctively I knew this wasn't within the normal percentile for weight. Behind me, Carlisle's thoughts confirmed as much: _Son, we need to get her home immediately. I didn't realize… _

I didn't respond right away. Savoring Bella's smell after so many weeks was mesmerizing me, and all I could do was close my eyes, relieved that at least she wasn't permanently disabled. I wouldn't deny Carlisle his medical duty once we returned home, but for now, for just a few moments, nothing could interrupt our reunion – one that I'd feared might not happen at all.

"I'm so glad you made it back," she whispered through the raindrops. "We both are."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a vague sense of obligation tugged at my consciousness. Jacob. If not for him, this blessed reunion wouldn't be happening. Though it took incredible willpower to tear myself away from her warmth, I slowly rose to face him who had made this moment possible.

"Thank you," my eyes channeled all my gratitude into his. "What you did for me, for us, is more than anyone else in your position would have. You've changed, Jacob. You're becoming a man… a man of integrity and character." Stepping forward three strides, I stopped just shy of the boundary line and extended my right hand. "I never thought the day would come when I'd say this, but you deserve it – I respect you."

Had we not been standing in the middle of a heavy downpour, we could have heard a pin drop. Everyone on both sides of the line froze in place, staring intently at the charged space between my outstretched hand and his. As I blinked the water from my eyes, I stood firm in my resolve, certain that this gesture was worth the vulnerability it placed me in. Though he owed me nothing, not even a handshake, I trusted this would end well. It needed to, for everyone's sake.

Just when I feared my faith was misplaced, the impossible happened. Closing the gap between us with three strides of his own, Jacob placed his palm in mine. Our grasp would have crumpled a tin can easier than a piece of paper. The look we exchanged spoke far more deeply and profoundly than any words could have signified. We had reached an unprecedented understanding, communicated mutual respect that defied eons of animosity and feuding. While I didn't expect to become best friends with him alongside Bella, I'd be a fool to ignore the promising future this portended. Gaining allies, no matter how unexpected or unlikely, could never be a bad thing. And if there was a more appropriate time to forge this new alliance, I couldn't imagine what it would be.

"It was no trouble at all," Sam interjected as our hands released their iron grip. "But we're glad to be able to return her to her own family. I'm sure she'll tell Jacob all about your adventure, and before long it will become part of our own legends."

Nodding, I turned back to Bella, eager to share that story with her tonight. Casting a final look of respectful gratitude over the other wolves, I grasped the wheelchair just as Jacob had done and steered it through the mud, lifting her carefully into the car. As we drove back in euphoric silence, the rain washed away every last trace of fear with each stroke of the windshield wipers.


	20. Chapter 20: Closure

**CHAPTER 20 – Closure**

**Bella**

The sweet perfume of a dozen lily bouquets danced in the June air that afternoon. It mingled deliciously with the sun's warmth on my face, pervading my senses until I forgot I was seated in the front row of fifty folding chairs, each draped elegantly in cream satin. I might have drifted away indefinitely on the blissful waves of this moment had Miles not started to whimper in his stroller.

Opening my eyes, I squinted at the specks of sunlight piercing the holes of my straw hat and reached into my bag, digging until I found the bottle. Though he was barely a month old, it was getting progressively easier to interpret my son's cries. And I was ninety percent sure that had been a hungry cry, especially considering I'd changed his diaper just before leaving the house.

Transferring my pumped breast milk from the thermos to his bottle was beginning to feel routine as well. Some might consider it a hassle, but I couldn't help seeing it as another miracle among many. The fact that Edward's child thrived on milk rather than a certain red liquid filled me with joy. Not only did it make feeding him a palatable experience, it boded well for his future growth and development as a normal child. While I wouldn't love him any less if he did exhibit vampire traits, being predominantly human was a definite advantage when it came to socializing.

As it was, Edward and I had been forced to invent some fairly creative ways of managing his interaction with others. Anyone who tried to lift him was bound to throw out their back and question us with horrified expressions. As neither of us was interested in a lawsuit or fielding a thousand questions, we decided to inform people that he'd been born with brittle bone disease and shouldn't be handled unless absolutely necessary. Carlisle brightened the diagnosis, however, by predicting that Miles would outgrow the condition by his twelfth or thirteenth birthday – well past the age when friends & family might invite him to sit on their laps.

It broke my heart to see Charlie disheartened at not being able to hold his grandson, but as much as it hurt, I had to admit it could be much worse. Miles' skin could sparkle in sunlight like his father's, but it didn't. His eyes could be an unsettling shade of red, not the soft hazel they were. He could be lunging at people's throats instead of cooing adorably when they stroked his curly bronze hair. If the biggest challenge was that our baby weighed as much as a toddler, we had it pretty good – relatively speaking, of course.

Although the weather precluded Edward from attending Charlie's wedding, I couldn't begrudge him one day apart, not when he was present in the baby next to me. I smiled at the memory of him on the day Miles was born. His beaming face had shone through my exhaustion like a perfect sunrise, flooding the entire room with euphoria. I'd never seen such pure joy on his features before, and the image remained etched in my heart forever.

These memories, still as fresh as if they'd just unfolded yesterday, blended seamlessly into the present as the first notes of the wedding procession began. My father stood rigidly in front, shoulders squared inside his suit, looking more distinguished and dignified than I'd seen him my entire life. Despite being determined not to, I allowed a couple tears to blur my vision. He deserved this – to be happy and content in his middle age, cared for and loved in a way he'd never fully enjoyed. Rather than resenting Cindy for "stealing" him out of nowhere, I chose to rejoice in the fact that I was physically able to join them today. Never would I take that for granted.

The ceremony was as beautiful as the day itself and seemed to end all too quickly. Amid the cheers that followed, I swept the crowd and caught my breath at the sight of two guests sitting in the back. If their dark features didn't set them apart from the surrounding paleness, the conspicuous height of the one on the left certainly did. When our eyes met, he conveyed a mixture of emotions I couldn't quite analyze.

In the ensuing jumble of hugs, kisses, and disorganized chaos, I temporarily lost sight of them. Charlie and Cindy soon found their way over to me, both of them grinning broadly.

"Looks like Mother Nature approves of us," Charlie eyed the cloudless sky. "Wasn't on the gift registry, but I'll take it."

"It was perfect, you two. Couldn't have asked for a better day, or a better couple," I leaned in to embrace each of them.

"Thank you, Bella. It really was perfect, wasn't it? The only thing that would've made it even better is if Edward's flight from California wasn't delayed," Cindy lamented.

I shrugged and offered an apologetic smile. "I know. I told him the campus visit could wait, but he insisted on going this weekend. He was eager to learn more about USC's pre-med program."

"Hmph. I'm glad he wants to follow in Carlisle's footsteps, but I won't be too happy if you end up moving there. I've hardly gotten to know my grandson yet," Charlie half-grumbled through his smile. There was, of course, no danger of us ever moving, but I couldn't admit that without unraveling Edward's alibi.

"Don't stress, Dad," I advised. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. For now, just enjoy your day. And don't forget, Edward's pretty sure he'll be back in time for part of the reception." The later, darker part when the sun wasn't directly overhead.

"Right. Guess we'll see you there in a little bit… we've got to finish our rounds here and make sure everything's packed for a quick honeymoon getaway afterward," he nudged Cindy in the arm, winking mischievously. Then something behind me caught his attention and his playful cheer subsided. "Perfect timing – looks like someone wants to have a word with you."

Turning around hesitantly, I found myself in the shadow of Jacob Black, hands resting on a wheelchair whose occupant gazed at me contemplatively. Both were dressed nicely – probably the neatest and cleanest I'd ever seen them – and their stately appearance added to their poise, which was exceptional by itself. I realized this wasn't just a perfunctory nod at a social gathering; they'd approached me with something significant to say.

"I'm glad you two could make it," banal as it was, I didn't know how else to begin. "It means the world to Charlie, having so many good friends here."

"We're glad to be here too," Billy replied. "It's not every day I get to see one of my best friends get married."

Jacob cleared his throat. "And it's not every day we get a chance to apologize… at least not one as convenient as this," he placed an encouraging hand on Billy's shoulder. "We wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings. I know it's been a while, and you may have forgotten the things that were said, but we can't say we're sorry enough."

Nodding, Billy held my gaze with sincerity. "That goes for me more than Jacob. I regret how I treated you when you were at our house, Bella. I reacted out of fear instead of welcoming Charlie's daughter and Jacob's friend." His eyes drifted to the stroller at my side, where Miles was sleeping peacefully beneath the canopy shade. "And anyone can see we have nothing to fear from that little one. So in addition to my apology, let me add my congratulations."

His words touched me deeply, not only because of their simple beauty, but for the generous spirit they exposed. For a Quileute elder to set aside tribal pride, not to mention his own, left me speechless. Glancing between father and son, I found identical reflections in their dark eyes. I saw humility, yet alongside it was pride – not the obdurate, self-inflated pride I'd seen before, but one that was rooted in mutual respect. Not unlike Edward's face that rainy evening months ago. It was quickly becoming my favorite expression to behold.

"Thank you," I impulsively leaned in to hug Billy, who seemed surprised by my gesture but tightened his arms around me after the initial shock. "And you're right, Jake," I stepped over to hug him next. "I hadn't given it a second thought. All I remember is your hospitality. Considering you kept me – well, us – alive, it'd be pretty ungrateful of me to nurse a grudge over something so trivial."

"All the same, we wanted closure," he concluded. Pulling apart from our hug, we both turned at the sound of Miles shifting in his seat. His tiny fists wobbled sleepily before settling at his sides, prompting Jacob to chuckle. "I don't suppose Uncle Jacob could hold him, not even on a special occasion like today?"

"Sorry, but that wouldn't go over too well with everyone who wants to but lacks enough supernatural strength," I joked quietly so no one would hear. "But you're free to visit us anytime. I'm sure Carlisle and Esme would love having visitors."

"We'll see," he smirked. "One thing at a time – first we have to survive the reception, and if I know your dad, things could get pretty wild."

That had earned an incredulous snort from me, but Jake's premonition proved more accurate than anyone would've guessed. Spending a few weeks with Charlie every summer during my childhood apparently wasn't enough to reveal his entire personality. That much was evident from watching him and Cindy flail around on the dance floor like crazy teenagers for hours on end. I'd heard it said that the quietest, most unassuming people are often capable of the wildest behavior, and Charlie Swan, chief of police for the city of Forks, must be the person who launched that rumor.

It was during a rowdy Electric Slide performance – featuring far more tripping than sliding – when Edward finally graced us with his presence. Slowly winding his way between the tables like a lion stalking its prey, his hands remained in the pockets of his dark gray suit coat, eyes fixed on me with every sultry turn. Even with the sounds of drunken wedding guests in the background, he managed to make this moment as romantic and captivating as only he could. The soft glow of a hundred Chinese lamps illuminated his path from above, and the cool night breeze stirred his hair beneath the tent's cathedral awning.

I was fairly breathless by the time he seated himself next to me. "Good evening," he greeted formally, though unable to keep his face entirely straight. "Might I join you at this festive event? I noticed your table was unattended, except for this gentleman," he nodded toward Miles, fast asleep despite the party's roar.

"You may indeed join me, sir," I tried to play along with formal manners, though I was certain to fail before long.

Smiling, he leaned in closer to me. "How very gracious of you. Now, presuming familiarity with your ladyship, may I inquire as to this gentleman's situation?"

He'd already lost me. "His situation?"

His body language oozed intimate curiosity. "Specifically, what are his prospects for future companions?"

"Uh… I imagine he'll find companions at school, or around the neighborhood."

Edward tilted his head. "Is that all, then?"

"Is there anything wrong with that?" knitting my eyebrows, I wondered what on earth he was aiming at.

"No, not at all," he assured. "I was merely curious as to whether he might enjoy friendship _inside_ the home as well as without."

Oh. Here it was, a conversation we'd been dodging since Miles' birth, and it finally surfaced in the middle of my father's raucous wedding reception. Shifting in my seat, I felt the warm rush of my cheeks reddening. "That depends," I said uncertainly. "There are a couple issues we haven't discussed yet."

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters, we can't be sure the next one will be as human as Miles. Carlisle says we rolled the dice and got lucky this time… how many times are you willing to play roulette?"

His self-satisfied smirk unhinged me. "The way I see it, I've already gotten more than I ever dreamed, much less deserve. If Miles is the only child we can have, I'll still feel like the richest man in the world. So to answer your question, I'll play roulette as many times as nature allows… that is, if you're willing, of course."

"As many times as nature allows?" I repeated his words. "What does that mean?"

He muted the playfulness in his eyes. "That if I don't get my wish for more children, you'll get your wish for immortality."

The din of the party faded to a whisper as I stared at him, breath suspended in my throat. Did his words mean what I thought? Did I dare assume as much? The dream of officially joining him in eternity had been eclipsed by Miles' arrival; between diaper changing, sleep deprivation, and the general overhaul of my daily routine and paradigm, I honestly hadn't given that dream much thought. It was amazing how other priorities had claimed virtually all my mental real estate overnight.

"Just so I understand, you're saying that if any subsequent baby is more vampiric, more dangerous than Miles, then… you'd change me?"

He nodded solemnly. "That's the deal."

I pondered that for a moment. "So we could end up with over half a dozen kids before you change me. I could be pushing forty, and you'd still be seventeen to the world. That's not quite what I bargained for."

"Fair enough," he pushed his chair back and rose. "How about four at the most, or age twenty-seven, whichever comes first. If it's about appearances, trust me Bella, the world won't know you're ten years older than me. You'll always look young for your age." Taking two seductive steps toward me, he traced a single finger down my neck.

Twenty-seven, at the oldest. Part of me chafed at the idea, but glancing down at Miles' innocent form, something stronger than vanity washed over me. If being a decade older than Edward meant having at least one more of these precious gifts, it might just be worth it. Astounding that a single twist in our marriage upended what was once my only obsession. Life really was what happened when you were busy making other plans.


	21. Chapter 21: Roulette: Final chapter

**CHAPTER 21 – Roulette**  
><span>**Bella**

That night, I danced with my husband on as private a corner of the dance floor as we could find. I hugged Charlie, Cindy, Jacob, and Billy again before Edward carried me and Miles home at an hour that felt much later than it was. I awoke two hours later to the cries of an empty stomach wailing from its crib, to which Edward responded with a bottle faster than I could have gotten out of bed.

Thus our life continued, quaint and simple, until he received another invitation to Volterra. Aro had been pleased with the Yukon Territory resolution, despite not receiving Georgia into his court. Given that she hadn't actually violated newborn regulations, and her legion consisted entirely of political malcontents, he shrugged off the loss of sport.

He had, of course, inquired about Miles, and was enchanted by what he saw in Edward's memories. Satisfied that our son posed no more of a liability than any other baby on the planet, he congratulated Edward and informed him that our family would be called upon to visit in the future. He insisted the invitation was purely sociable in nature, and while he recommended against refusing it, he promised it would be free of ultimatums or "business deals," as he endearingly called them.

Miles' first birthday came surprisingly fast. Though I tried reasoning with Alice that he was too young to appreciate – much less remember – anything from the party, she crammed the house so full of streamers and balloons that half the furniture was buried. Emmett was recruited to perform clown duty, which was quite the sight. I worried that his bizarre appearance might frighten Miles, but thankfully he found his oafish uncle – dressed in patchwork flood pants and a rainbow wig – to be endlessly amusing.

Just when I thought I'd seen the full scope of Alice's lavish party designs, she herded us into the back yard. Tethered to one of the tree trunks was a stocky little pony with an iridescent birthday hat strapped between its ears.

"Alice…" I rolled my eyes. "How many times do I have to remind you – he won't remember any of this."

"Maybe not, but I will," she huffed. "And so will you. Besides, that's what pictures are for. Now let's saddle him up for a ride around the house."

Esme, official photographer for the event, dutifully followed us as we paraded Pickles the pony along the edge of the property. A distinctly low-energy animal, Pickles could carry a towering wedding cake for ten miles without jostling it. When at last his jaunt was finished, it was time for our own cake. I was glad the fiasco was almost over, not only because it was as ridiculous as it was exhausting, but because Miles and I were the only ones eating the cake. I anticipated feeling a little silly and conspicuous while everyone watched us eat.

How accurate that premonition had been. One bite into the marble cake, whose mint frosting I'd been eyeing with pleasure all morning, and a strange sensation spread across my tongue. My taste buds backfired, refusing to relay the correct flavor to my brain. This didn't taste like cake. The texture was right, but everything else was all wrong.

"Does it taste all right?" Esme asked. Poor Esme – always the hapless chef behind these incidents.

"Um, Edward, can I see you inside for a minute?" I mumbled through the mush I was loath to swallow.

Minutes later, we sat in the stillness of our room, his ear pressed against my abdomen. I shakily held my breath, as if my lungs might interfere with his listening. Time suspended itself while I waited anxiously for him to turn his brilliant face upward and announce the verdict. When endless seconds passed without the slightest movement or sound from him, I assumed it was because he heard nothing. Disappointment began to creep its way into my spirit.

Then, with what I perceived to be reluctance, he withdrew his ear and stared at me. Slowly, his face transformed from a mask of neutrality to one of smiling elation.

Ivy was born seven months later, much to the delight of her older brother. And like her brother, she weighed an exorbitant amount at birth, inheriting the same "brittle bone disease" as Miles. The two enjoyed each other's company immensely, at times sharing an incoherent language only they understood.

Round two of roulette had been a success. As Edward and I watched them, each miniature replicas of ourselves, I marveled at their existence and wondered if we would end up with two more. In all honesty, I imagined my luck had been expended with Miles and not enough remained to defy the odds a second time. Yet with that theory already debunked, what stopped me from being proven wrong multiple times?

Not long after Ivy's first birthday, I received the answer to that rhetorical question. On an uncommonly mild winter afternoon, Edward lay in the middle of a sprawling blanket with both children resting against his chest, their favorite book held aloft as he narrated it. Ivy giggled at the diamonds dancing along his neck while I finished my chips and salsa, reaching over to the picnic basket for a napkin.

The motion of bending at the waist caused my stomach to churn abruptly, and I barely reached the bushes in time to hide the unsavory sight from my family. Halfway through the retching, I knew what it was. From the way Edward's eyes gleamed roguishly as he rinsed out my mouth, I surmised he knew as well.

With the children tugging at my legs to ensure I was recovering, Edward saw no need to delay the ceremony. I closed my eyes and stood as still as possible while he brought his ear to align with my stomach. No anxiety troubled me as I awaited his response. Two reasons for my peace were currently clinging to my ankles. A third would arrive before the year was through, and our family would find itself even more abundantly complete than it already was.

A fragrant breeze stirred the meadow as Edward stood. The message in his eyes perplexed me. Yet I saw he wasn't stalling or being intentionally enigmatic just to provoke me.

"Well?" I entreated, unable to withstand the tension any longer.

Glancing down at Miles and Ivy, he seemed to be gauging whether or not to respond in their presence. Apparently satisfied with my state of health, they'd engaged themselves with some wildflowers and twigs – Ivy carefully plucking the former into a bouquet while Miles thrashed them with the latter. They weren't attuned to us at the moment.

"It's what you think," he said quietly. "But different than before."

I squinted at him as he waited for the implications to sink in. If it was what I thought, why did I detect a melancholy tint to his eyes? How could my prediction be correct, yet "different" than previous events?

Suddenly, like a tsunami wave slamming into me, I understood. Seeing realization dawn on my features, Edward pulled me in to a soft embrace. "I smell a difference in your blood," he confirmed, "but I can't hear a heartbeat."

**Author's note updated 5/20/11:****  
>My response to the comments about Edward &amp; Alice's talents: everything I chose - from the relative lack of their talents to their lack of communication with Bella while in Canada - was for dramatic effect. Delineating what could've been done differently is not only pedantic, it undermines my prerogative to compose however I see fit. It also loses sight of the big picture. Just chill, babes.<br>Plus, I grow easily tired of reading italicized mental thoughts, so I wanted to keep those to a minimum. **

**A number of readers felt obligated to remove my story from their Favorites list after reading my Afterword. I find this amusing rather than offensive. The story's plotline & syntax are the same quality as before. I didn't realize a brief, politically incorrect statement could summarily spoil everything preceding it. Are there other "magic wands" I should know about? :)**


	22. Unfinished Business

**Unfinished business**

As an afterword, I wanted to address a few odds & ends. First, I intended the final chapter to end on a dramatic, seemingly unfinished note, because I feel the best stories are ones that leave future chapters open to the imagination. I consider that integral to the overall gift of the story.

Other gifts are more subtle and may have gone unnoticed or overlooked. I refer to the various spiritual, emotional, and psychological lessons woven into these chapters. As evidenced by the fact that I reconciled all the stereotypically antagonistic relationships (Jacob & Edward, Charlie & Edward, Billy & Bella, etc.), forgiveness and humility are virtues I value greatly.

Also intermixed are themes of trust and faith. Edward's struggle to embrace the ambiguous yet empowering gift of faith reflects every human's struggle - conscious or otherwise - to find God and transcendent meaning in life.

It should come as no surprise, then, that my ultimate goal was not merely to entertain, but to inspire. By emphasizing the beauty of selfless love and generous openness to life, my message is unashamedly pro-life. Yet I approached the issue from a humanistic standpoint, attempting to infuse my readers with a renewed sense of sexuality and what being human fully means. As far as subliminal agendas go, I like to think you could find worse.

It's more existential than the average Fanfiction experience, but you usually get more than you bargain for with me. Just ask my husband. And since I promote the culture of life like it's my job, I recommend Googling the Theology of the Body sometime. Best material you'll ever find… after my own story, of course. ;)

Lastly, a heartfelt thank you to everyone who followed the story. You all rock, and I hope you find many more stories to satisfy your thirst... no pun intended.

It's been real.


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